


I Want to Skate like Him

by IdunAurora



Series: Viktor the tomato [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Role Swap, day three, victuuriweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdunAurora/pseuds/IdunAurora
Summary: "Coach me, Yuuri-sensei, please!"At age 27, five time consecutive world figure skating champion Yuuri Katsuki decides to retire. He has barely made it home to Hasetsu before he finds an eager and all too enthusiastic silver-haired Russian on the doorstep of Yu-Topia Akatsuki, demanding Yuuri to coach him. Well, it's not as if the Japanese legend has been able to get 23-year-old Viktor Nikiforov out of his mind since the young man enchanted him at the GPF banquet in Sochi months earlier, anyway.Also, Yuuri's smirks should be illegal. Viktor is certain he has spent more time imitating a tomato than he has been skating.Victuuriweek day 3: DreamsAU: Role Swap





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for suggestive themes and minor sexual themes.  
> Apologies for overuse of Yuuri-sensei. It's Viktor's fault.

_“Be my coach, Yuuriii~!”_

Japan’s top figure skater, 27-year-old Katsuki Yuuri, chuckled slightly at the memory as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone from that night at the banquet after the Grand Prix Final. Viktor Nikiforov, Russia’s rising star, apparently had zero tolerance for alcohol, despite his heritage. He had fallen just short of the podium, coming in fourth place after Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont and Christophe Gicometti, winning over Jean-Jacques Leroy and Michele Crispino with a fair margin to the skater in last place.

Viktor was 23 years of age, but looked slightly younger in Yuuri’s eyes due to his waist-length silver hair and lithe body that would have been well suited for ballet had he decided to take that path instead. But no. Viktor belonged on the ice. And as of the Grand Prix Final banquet, Yuuri now knew his Russian kouhai was a huge fan of his.

Long story short, Viktor had gotten exceedingly drunk at the banquet, and to start with he had challenged his younger rinkmate, the junior GPF gold medalist Yuri Plisetsky, to a dance-off. Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun at such a boring event, and he eagerly took out his phone to snap some pictures of the spectacle. Then, Viktor had spotted him, blue eyes shining, and prompted Yuuri to dance a paso doble and a tango with him. Yuuri easily swept the younger man off his feet, luring him in during the paso doble and then leading him through the tango. He couldn’t get quite enough of Viktor’s tingling laughter, his awe-struck shimmering eyes and that genuine happiness that seemed to radiate from him.

Somewhere along the line, Viktor’s friend Chris had managed to assemble his portable pole and beckoned Yuuri to join him on it. Yuuri obliged, mounting it wearing only his boxer briefs and the tie (which was still more than Chris who was wearing only boxers and nothing else). It had been a while since he pole danced, but he had done it so many times during his years in Detroit that he really hadn’t lost touch. Viktor had stood by the whole time, watching in amazed admiration, and as soon as Yuuri’s feet hit the ground, the younger skater had jumped into his arms, embracing him tightly and… well, humped his leg. More or less.

Yuuri could remember it like yesterday…

_“Yuuriii~,” he sang, “When you retire someday, you’ll become my coach, right?”_

_Yuuri blinked, half-confused and half-amused, looking down at the younger man in his arms who now looked up at him, cheeks flushed red and eyes glimmering in drunken delight, filled with hope._

_“You live in Hasetsu, right? Your family owns a hot spring? I want to visit that!” He clutched tightly onto Yuuri’s dress shirt, smiling blissfully. “Be my coach, Yuuriii~!”_

_And something in that moment tugged on Yuuri’s heartstrings. He heard himself give up a barely audible gasp, his cheeks dusting pink. Viktor may have been drunk, but there was something about the way he was still so honest, so innocent, so genuine in his wish that Yuuri couldn’t help but feel… whatever it was he felt._

_Warm, certainly._

Yuuri ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into the couch and sighed. He had a strong feeling Viktor didn’t remember the banquet at all, which wouldn’t be too surprising considering his drunken state of mind. He had been present at the Four Continents and the World Championships, both of which Yuuri had won and Viktor hadn’t made the podium at, but he hadn’t mentioned his request of Yuuri coaching him further. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to Yuuri at all, and they hadn’t really had the chance to either. Especially not with all the reporters surrounding Yuuri and asking if it really was true that he was retiring after the Worlds.

He was. He had decided as much, and his coach had been on board with it. Celestino had always been understanding, and they had parted on very good terms. Other than his now ex-coach, the only person who knew the truth, apart from Yuuri’s family and friends, was his rinkmate Phichit Chulanont.

His thoughts drifted back to the silver-haired Russian. Viktor hadn’t seen him as a rival, which was unusual, as even people like Phichit and Leo, whom he was good friends with, took a competitive approach to him on the ice. In that regard, Viktor was different. He didn’t come to tell Yuuri he would beat him next time. Instead, he came to Yuuri as he was, asking him to be his coach. He came to Yuuri not as a rival and fellow competitor, but as a younger skater with less experience who looked up to and admired Yuuri’s work.

Of course Viktor’s words and actions had tugged at his heartstrings. It would have been worrying if they didn’t.

 

“Are you recording?” Viktor asked Mila Babicheva excitedly, taking his place in the center of their homerink in St. Petersburg. Mila grinned at him.

“I am.” She confirmed. “Music?”

“Let’s do this.”

Viktor got into position and waited for the familiar piano to start playing from the speakers before he began to move. He knew the choreography by heart; he had watched it many times, both live and on a screen, and he had practiced it so many times he couldn’t count them anymore. It was insanely difficult and required more stamina than Viktor had, so he had to change a few jump elements in order to pull it off.

No one but Yuuri Katsuki could manage to pull off a quadruple flip at the very end of a program. No one.

The music to Yuuri’s last free skate was as beautiful as the man himself, Viktor decided. Yuuri on Ice was an original score composed just for the multi-gold medalist, representing him and his career as a skater.

On second thought, the music wasn’t as beautiful as Yuuri himself. No music could ever do him justice. When Yuuri skated, it was as if the music was begging him to dance a little longer; rather than him dancing to the music, his body created music. He was in complete control of his programs, holding the world in his hands, gazing down on it through warm, chocolate eyes.

Yuuri Katsuki was beautiful. His every move was precise, fluid, his body toned yet lithe and nimble. He had a background as a ballet dancer, after all, and it showed. Not everyone could perform a perfect Biellmann spiral at the age of 27. He could. With flourish and unmatched grace.

Viktor couldn’t hope to possibly copy his ace routine to the dot, but he could damn well try. The quadruple flip had to translate into a triple, though. He could swallow that.

Finally, the music ended, and Viktor found himself standing in the middle of the rink, right hand on his heart, the left gracefully stretched to the side in his absolute best imitation of Yuuri. He was panting heavily, sweat trickling down every inch of his body.

Damn that handsome man and his legendary stamina!

Viktor snapped out of his thoughts when Mila started clapping.

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “A next to perfect copy of Yuuri!”

If Viktor wasn’t already flushed down to his neck from the work-out, he certainly was now. He beamed at her.

“Was it?” He asked, skating over to have a look at the video Mila had recorded.

“Yeah!” She assured him. “I mean, apart from the quadruple flip that became a triple, but that’s all right, it’s not something anyone can pull off. Only him.”

Viktor silently agreed as he watched it with critical eyes. He whined.

“It still looks so much better when he skates it!” He said. “How does he do it? How can he move like he does?”

“You should ask.” Mila suggested, tucking her phone away. “Which reminds me, you didn’t speak with him at the Worlds either, did you?”

Viktor’s shoulder slumped.

“No.” He admitted. “I tried once and when I found him, he was surrounded by the press. There was really no room to talk to him.” He blinked, remembering the press conference after the Worlds, and looked at Mila with a worrying gaze. “Do you think it’s true?”

Mila blinked in turn, confused.

“What?” She asked.

“Do you think the speculations are true? That he’s retiring?”

Mila’s eyes widened.

“Retiring?” She pondered silently for a moment. “Maybe. I mean, Yuuri on Ice did feel like a bit of a… farewell, don’t you think? A routine that represents him and his career? It does look a little like he’s summed it all up, really, now that you mention it.”

Viktor bit his lip, leaning against the railing, making his silver hair fall over his shoulder.

“And I never even summoned up the courage to talk to him for real…”

“You did ask for a commemorative photo, which he obliged to.”

“That doesn’t count.” Viktor decided, cheeks burning.

They stood in silence for a moment, Viktor lost in his own head while Mila pondered the dilemma back and forth. Slowly, a grin spread on her face.

“I have an idea.”

 

 **Phichit+chu:** Yuuri, you’ve gotta see this! ( link)

“Huh?”

Yuuri clicked on the link out of curiosity. It led him to a Youtube-video, the still showing a very familiar, silver-haired Russian skater in the middle of a camel spin. Yuuri’s eyes widened as he read the title: _Viktor Nikiforov tried to skate Yuuri Katsuki’s FS “Yuuri on Ice”_.

Intrigued, he clicked on the link. When the video had finished, he rewatched once. Then twice. Then seven times. He couldn’t look away. Viktor may have changed the last jump element to a triple instead of a quad, but that made little difference, because Yuuri could not look away. The video spoke more than a thousand words to him, and tugged at his heartstrings in much the same manner Viktor’s words had at the GPF banquet.

_“Be my coach, Yuuriii~!”_

Yuuri clicked on the comment section and pondered for a moment. He wanted to encourage his kouhai with a comment, naturally. He wanted to give his honest opinion. But how to express it best…

 

 **Mi1aBab:** Viktor, check the top comment ASAP! ( link)

Viktor blinked, clicking on the link while absentmindedly stroking his hand through Yurochka’s fluffy, brown fur. Yes, his beloved poodle was named after Yuuri. No, he wasn’t too embarrassed about it. Yuuri had a poodle of his own, called Akiko, or Aki-chan, and Viktor had gotten one of his own mainly because of that. He loved poodles, and apparently Yuuri did, too. That was a mere bonus.

Viktor’s hand suddenly stopped its way through Yurochka’s fur as it flew up to cover Viktor’s mouth instead, barely strangling the gasp that escaped his lips. He read the comment several times over, not quite believing his eyes. But no matter how many times he read it, rubbed his eyes and pinched himself did the comment disappear. No. It was there, and very much real.

 **Katsuki Yuuri Official**  
Beautiful, this warms my heart. I’m touched. You will go far, Viktor.

Viktor clutched the phone to his chest, his heart beating a million miles an hour and his cheeks flushing a brighter shade of pink. Yuuri had liked it. He called it beautiful. It had warmed his heart.

Viktor had warmed his heart. The thought made his world spin as a blissful smile made its way to his lips. He looked at the comment again.

_You will go far, Viktor._

“Damn right I will.” Viktor decided, standing up so quickly that Yurochka sat up on the couch in surprise. “With your help. Watch out, Yuuri Katsuki…” his smile turned into a full-on grin, “…I’m coming for you.”

_I want to skate like you._

 

**

 

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri looked up at his father who had come out to the outdoor hot spring, fully clothed and smiling brightly. Yuuri cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes, otou-san?”

“I thought I should warn you.” His father said. “That young Russian skater we saw on TV during your last competition, the one with silver hair…”

“Viktor.” Yuuri said helpfully, his interest now peaked.

“Yes, Viktor.” Toshiya confirmed. “He’s here. He just arrived with a poodle and a load of cardboard boxes in tow.” Yuuri blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread on his face.

“He did, did he?” He asked, feeling more amused by the second. _How irresponsible and rash!_

“Yes.” His father confirmed. “I thought you should know, your mother will probably send him here to have a soak before dinner.”

“Did he say why he’s here?” Yuuri asked. He had a strong feeling.

“I think he’d better tell you himself.”

Things just turned a lot more interesting…

 

Viktor pulled up his silver hair into a messy bun on the back of his head before placing the small towel around his waist and headed for the outdoor spring. He hadn’t spotted Yuuri inside, which meant he had to be outside… Right? Heart thumping hard in his chest, he pushed the door open.

He wasn’t prepared. As a result, he barely managed to hold back a gasp, audibly gulping instead.

There he was, leaning casually against the far side of the hot spring, skin fair and damp hair as black as the darkest night. His brown eyes were fixed on Viktor, who felt like Yuuri could see right through him, read his mind and soul like an open book. The fact that his toned chest was clearly visible and exposed above the water didn’t help at all.

It was only when Yuuri cocked an eyebrow that Viktor realized he had been staring. He flushed down to his chest in embarrassment, trying to avert his gaze.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay there like that, Viktor.” The older skater told him, his voice warm and deep like melted, dark chocolate. “Come here.”

He motioned towards himself. Viktor blinked.

“O-okay.” He managed to say, immediately wincing on the inside. That stutter was certainly unintentional.

He walked to the edge of the bath and slid a foot in, taking off the towel at the last second before walking through the water to the far side of the spring, where Yuuri was lounging comfortably. Determined not to embarrass himself further, he boldly sat down next to him, placing the towel on the edge of the spring, looking straight at the handsome older skater beside him. Viktor took a deep breath, steeling himself again.

“Coach me.” He finally said. There. Head-on, no stray paths. Then he caught himself again. _Stupid!_ “Please.”

Better.

Yuuri merely looked at him, a small glint of curiosity in his eyes. No surprise, no astonishment. Viktor almost frowned. Why wasn’t he surprised?

“You have a coach, Viktor.” Yuuri finally said, and Viktor felt a shiver run up his spine when his name rolled off Yuuri’s tongue. “An excellent one at that.”

Viktor pouted.

“Yakov is grumpy and doesn’t allow room for ones own creativity.” He objected. “I’m trapped under his guidance.”

“I have zero experience with coaching.” Yuuri said firmly. “None whatsoever. What makes you think I would be of help?”

Viktor’s jaw dropped.

“What makes me think…?” He repeated in disbelief. “You’re the best skater there is! A living legend!”

“There, you have pinpointed the problem.” Yuuri said, nodding. “I’m a skater. Not a coach.”

“But you’re retiring.” Viktor said quietly.

Yuuri regarded him for a moment with polite interest.

“Yes.” He confirmed. “I am.”

“Then coach me, please!” Viktor said, turning towards Yuuri fully, leaning a little more in his direction.

“I need a license for that.”

“It won’t be hard for you to get one.”

“Hmm…” Yuuri was still looking at him, brown eyes watching his every move, every feature. Viktor suddenly felt extremely self-aware, blushing furiously again.

“Here’s what we’ll do.” Yuuri said casually, looking away to grab his towel. “When you’ve bathed, you’ll have something to eat, then rest, you look exhausted. When you’ve done that, we’ll talk. Deal?”

Viktor nodded determinedly.

“Deal.” He agreed.

A smug smile made its way to Yuuri’s lips and Viktor’s heart might as well have leapt out of his chest at this point.

“Good.” Yuuri said, standing up. Water fell down his soft-yet-lean body, and Viktor blushed a million shades of red as his idol proceeded to walk towards the house, buck naked, hips swaying in a way only he could manage. His movements had always been so wonderfully androgynous, and seeing those muscles at work without fabric in between… those strong thighs and _oh god above_ that perfectly shaped behind…

It didn’t help that Yuuri turned his head when he stepped out of the water and wrapped the towel around himself, catching Viktor’s flustered gaze. The smirk returned, along with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He winked, then proceeded to walk away as if he had done absolutely nothing at all.

Viktor sank back into the water, cheeks aflame. Right now, he would very much have liked to die, partially from embarrassment, and partially from giddiness.

Yuuri Katsuki winked at him.

Viktor made a mental note to order a tombstone.

 

He fell asleep directly after emptying a bowl of miso soup and woke up an hour and a half later with a sneeze.

“Bless you.”

_Oh._

Viktor opened his eyes, still a bit droopy with sleep, sitting up. Yurochka and Aki-chan were sleeping a few feet away, apparently having played together with a squishy ball until exhaustion caught up with them, too. Viktor turned his head, feeling the green yukata he was wearing falling off his slim shoulder a little bit, having loosened somewhat during his nap. Yuuri was sitting on his knees on the other side of the table, his hair silken smooth yet a bit messy after the bath, a pair of blue-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He, too, was wearing a yukata, but while Viktor’s was green, his was a lovely shade of purple that reminded Viktor of the costume he had worn for the Yuuri on Ice-routine.

That man even made glasses look good.

“Are you hungry, Viktor?” Yuuri asked casually, taking a bite of something from the bowl he held in his hand. Viktor blinked. His stomach growled.

“…uh, yes.” He admitted. Yuuri chuckled.

“Mom is preparing some katsudon for you.” He said. “It should be ready any minute now.”

“Is that what you’re eating?” Viktor asked, curious. Whatever was in Yuuri’s bowl, it smelled delicious.

“Yes, it is.” The older skater confirmed. Then he gestured to the sleeping poodles. “What’s his name?”

“Oh, he’s Yurochka.” Viktor smiled fondly at his beloved poodle, snoozing happily beside Aki-chan.

“Nickname?”

“Y-No!” Viktor quickly corrected himself, fighting away a blush. “I mean, no, that’s his given name.”

“Hmm, Yurochka…” Yuuri mused, looking at the two fluffballs on the floor. Viktor’s hair stood on end with the way the name rolled off Yuuri’s tongue. Like he _knew_. “…it suits him. He and Aki-chan seem to get along well.”

That look. That innocent amusement. Viktor’s breath hitched.

He _knew_ Yurochka was a nickname for Yuuri. He just knew. Was Yuuri perhaps knowledgeable about Russian nicknaming principles?

“Ah, Vicchan, you’re awake!”

Viktor breathed out a sigh of relief as Yuuri’s mother appeared with a bowl of katsudon in her hand and a warm smile on her face. She placed down the bowl and then held out a pair of chopsticks in one hand and a spoon and a fork in the other.

“Which one would you prefer, Vicchan?” She asked kindly.

“Chopsticks, please.” Viktor said, confident this time. He had used chopsticks before, many times. In fact, all those times he had visited the Japanese restaurant a few blocks away from his flat in St. Petersburg to practice it and learn more about Japanese cuisine. He had even had katsudon there, just because he knew it was Yuuri’s favorite. Not that he would ever dare tell him that.

Hiroko handed him the chopsticks, smiling all the while.

“What would you like to drink? Water, juice?”

Assuring her water would do just fine, he admired the food in front of him. The katsudon in the restaurant back in Russia was nothing compared to Yuuri’s mother’s homecooking. His bright blue eyes shimmered in delight.

“It looks amazing!” He grinned excitedly, picking out a pork cutlet from the bowl and taking a bite. His eyes shot wide open. “ _Vkusno!_ ”

It was _delicious!_

“Awesome!” He beamed, stuffing his face with the glorious food he had been given. “Is this what gods eat? Does your mother cook this often?”

Yuuri chuckled, having finished his own bowl.

“Every time I visit.” He responded. “But before I moved, she made it only when I won a skating competition. And now that I’m back here… well, it’s not going to be too often, either.”

Viktor looked up at him, blinking.

“Why?” He asked, dumbfounded.

“Because Yuuri gains weight just as easily as he loses it.” A female voice said from behind Viktor. He turned around as Yuuri smiled.

“Ah, Minako-sensei.” He said. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

A slim woman with long, brown hair came to stand beside the table, hand on her hip and a small frown on her face. She pointed at Yuuri accusingly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a _guest?_ ” She wiggled her finger at him.

“He only just arrived, Minako-sensei.” Yuuri said calmly, patting the spot beside him. “Sit down.”

“You should have called me immediately!” She snapped, but it was in good nature. “Am I not your favorite ballet instructor anymore?”

“You’re my only ballet instructor, Minako-sensei.” Yuuri chuckled as she complied, sinking down on her knees beside him. “Well, Viktor, this is Okukawa Minako, my ballet instructor since I was a child. Minako-sensei, Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I _know_ who he is!” She poked Yuuri’s side. “Nice to meet you.” She beamed at Viktor. He grinned back.

“Nice to meet you, too, Minako-sensei. Can I call you that, too?”

“That works just fine.” Minako waved it off.

“Minako-senpai!” Yuuri’s mother squealed, joining them again. “You came! Sake?”

“Yes, please!” Minako grinned. “For Yuuri and Viktor, too.” Yuuri sighed.

“Minako-sensei…”

“Noted!” Hiroko chirped. “Oh, are you finished, Vicchan?” She asked kindly, collecting the bowl. Viktor smiled brightly at her.

“It was divine, Hiroko-san!” She chuckled, delighted.

“Thank you, dear, and please, it’s Mama.” She winked at him before heading to the kitchen to get some sake.

“So, what brings you here, darling?” Minako asked Viktor, leaning her head on her hand, elbow propped up on the table. “Chasing our Yuuri all the way to his home?”

“I want him to coach me.” Viktor said, determined, trying to be unfazed by the accusation of having _chased_ Yuuri. Even though it was true. He fought a blush at the thought.

“Coach you, huh?” Minako cocked an eyebrow. “And what do you say, Yuuri-kun?”

“I would argue that I’m not qualified, especially not compared to Yakov Feltsman.” Yuuri said calmly. “I have no coaching experience, and no license.”

“You can get one.” Viktor pointed out.

“And compared to Yakov Feltsman, you’re much more agreeable, much less grumpy, and miles ahead when it comes to looks.” Minako winked at him. Yuuri snorted with laughter. “Well, are you at least considering?”

“I might have had some success as a skater…”

“ _Some?_ ” Viktor gaped in disbelief.

“Yuuri is known for his modesty, you know.” Minako said helpfully.

Of course Viktor knew that. But witnessing it up close was a whole different thing altogether.

“As I said, even if I might have succeeded as a skater, doesn’t mean I will be a good coach.” Yuuri argued. “If I take on a student, I want to do them justice and help them in the ways they need in order to succeed. I’m not sure if I can manage that.”

“You have too little faith in yourself, young man.” Minako wiggled her finger again, pouring them all some sake that Hiroko had just brought them. “I saw that video, like everyone else who is even mildly interested in figure skating. You’re clearly an inspiration for Viktor-kun here.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that I’m a skater, not a coach.”

“But you could be.” Viktor argued, leaning over the table a little, the sake burning in his throat, but he ignored it. “I still have a few years left to go if I want to. You have time to learn.”

“He makes a good point.” Minako argued on Viktor’s behalf. “You were made to be on the ice, Yuuri. Yuuri on Ice, right? You could be an excellent coach, keep yourself on the ice and help others succeed in turn.”

“Do you seriously believe I haven’t considered the possibility myself?” Yuuri smiled in mock hurt. “I want to stay close to the ice no matter what. It’s just… the season just ended, my last season. I haven’t had the time to plan anything else yet.”

“Then we’ll plan for you.” Viktor grinned. “Coach me, Yuuri-sensei, please!”

Yuuri blinked.

“Sensei?”

“Fitting for a coach, no?” Minako giggled. “It suits you, Yuuri-sensei.”

“Give it a try, please, Yuuri-sensei.” Viktor insisted, sitting up straighter leaning forward over the table. “One month. Coach me for a month. If it doesn’t work, then reconsider.”

“Good proposition.” Minako nodded.

Yuuri pondered for a moment, tapping his index finger against the table while looking at a spot somewhere behind Viktor. Then, very slowly, he nodded.

“A month’s trial period, then.” He finally agreed. Viktor felt as if his chest was going to burst with happiness.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, fistpumping in the air. “Thank you, Yuuri-sensei!”

“This means I’ll have to call your former coach and inform him.” Yuuri reminded Viktor, who paled.

“He knows I left.” He said hastily. “He followed me the whole way to the airport trying to stop me.”

“I have to call him nevertheless.” Yuuri said firmly. “And then I have to call Ciao Ciao to ask for advice, and have him put in a word for me so I can get a coaching license faster.”

“Ciao Ciao? Celestino has a nickname?” Viktor grinned. Yuuri chuckled.

“He always says ‘ciao ciao’ when greeting someone.” Yuuri explained. “The habit earned him a nickname, but Phichit-kun and I are the only ones that use it.”

“He’ll help you out, no doubt.” Minako said reassuringly.

“Yeah, he will.” Yuuri agreed, running a hand through his hair and taking another sip of his sake. “Yakov will definitely not.”

“You could just not call him.” Viktor suggested, but Yuuri shook his head.

“I have to at least try, as a courtesy if nothing else.” He argued. Then he cleared his throat: “Okaa-san!”

“Yes, Yuuri dearest?” Hiroko sang as she joined them from the kitchen once again.

“Viktor is staying at least a month.” Yuuri explained. “That will be awfully expensive. Free of charge?”

“Of course!” Hiroko smiled brightly. “No rent for you, Vicchan, make yourself at home here.”

Viktor’s jaw dropped.

“Wh-what?” He stammered in awe and disbelief. He would be staying for free?

“If our Yuuri is going to coach you, we won’t charge you for staying.” Hiroko decided swiftly. “Simple as that. More sake, Minako-sensei?”

“Hai!” Minako grinned, downing yet another glass.

“Then… what about the coaching fee?” Viktor asked Yuuri uncertainly. Yuuri waved it off.

“Let’s discuss that later.” He said, making sure Viktor understood from his tone that money issues weren’t to be discussed any more that evening. Instead, he took the sake bottle and filled up Viktor’s empty cup again.

“Oh… o-okay.” Viktor nodded, slightly nervous and mostly relieved.

“Kanpai!” Minako cheered, raising her glass.

“Kanpai!” Viktor and Yuuri followed, drinking with her. Yuuri placed down his glass and leaned forward a little, looking Viktor straight in the eye.

“Are you absolutely, positively certain you want me to coach you?” He asked, his tone serious. Viktor nodded furiously.

“Yes!” He confirmed. “I’m sure.”

Yuuri eyed him closely.

“I won’t go easy on you.” He said, an undertone of warning in his voice. “I followed a relentless training program during my career. If you want the next gold medal to be yours, you will have to work for it.” Viktor nodded again.

“I will.” Determined. “Don’t hold back.”

Minako snorted with laughter.

“Do you have a death wish, boy?” She grinned. “Don’t kill him during the first week, Yuuri. Not everyone has your stamina.”

“I’m aware.” Yuuri said nonchalantly, grinning, looking at Viktor. “We’ll just have to find your limits and push just beyond them, a little more each time.” Viktor nodded again in fierce determination. “Right.” Yuuri said, emptying his cup of sake again. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, you get settled here and rest, you’re jet-lagged and it’s no use ushering you to train first thing in the morning when you haven’t unpacked your stuff yet. By tomorrow evening, I will decide if we start training the following day or the day after that. I’ll be testing your limits, your skills, your strengths and your weaknesses and make a training schedule and program based on that. Sounds reasonable?”

“Yes.” Viktor agreed.

“Didn’t you just say you knew nothing about coaching?” Minako grinned, poking Yuuri’s side again.

“That’s what Ciao Ciao used to do.” Yuuri shrugged. “And speaking of your stuff, Viktor…” Yuuri stood up in one swift, elegant moevement, “…I’ll go carry the rest of your boxes to the room you’ll be staying in.” Viktor quickly stood up as well.

“I’ll help!” He said. “It’s my stuff, anyway.”

“As you wish.” Yuuri said smoothly. “Be right back, Minako-sensei. Don’t drink too much, alright?”

“But this sake is so good, Yuuri…” Minako grinned, emptying Viktor’s cup as well. Yuuri chuckled.

“You’re hopeless, Minako-sensei.”

“Drunk is what I am!”

“Is she always like that?” Viktor asked as they left the room. Yuuri chuckled again.

“She used to tour the world, dancing. She was quite famous.” He gave Viktor a smile that turned his insides to mush. “But like in figure skating, your body can only do so much for so long. She returned here and opened a ballet studio, but she hasn’t really had any students since I moved to Detroit when I was 18. So she opened a bar as a side business. A lovable alcoholic, really.”

Yuuri opened the door and looked at the multitude of cardboard boxes on the other side. Instead of commenting on it, he simply grabbed big and heavy one close to the door, lifting it up like it was nothing more than a basket of fruit and proceeding to carry it upstairs. Viktor quickly grabbed a box and followed.

Yuuri’s stamina wasn’t anything to be messed with, apparently. Toshiya and Yuuri’s sister Mari joined them to help with the boxes, and yet Yuuri managed to carry the same amount alone the other three managed combined. When there were only two boxes left, Yuuri and Viktor grabbed them, thanking the two others, and carried them upstairs.

Viktor placed down the last box by the entrance and sank to his knees, panting. Yuuri, meanwhile, stretched and righted his yukata a little, much to Viktor’s dismay, as he had liked the sliver of pale skin showing on Yuuri’s toned chest when he carried to boxes. The older skater then pulled a futon into the room; his sister must have left it outside the sliding door earlier. He proceeded to roll it out and adjust the pillow and the sheets, not an ounce of fatigue showing in his quick and nimble movements as he worked.

“It seems you haven’t packed for a vacation.” He remarked, glancing over at Viktor, curious amusement in his brown eyes. Viktor blushed pink.

“Well, I… I sold my apartment in St. Petersburg so…” he blushed even more. Yuuri merely hummed in response, not saying anything. Not judging. Not asking. His response made Viktor feel a little more at ease, and so he scooted a little more into the room, closer to the futon Yuuri was working on.

“Yuuri-sensei,” he said, feeling bolder after the alcohol and the response to his rash actions, “If you’re going to coach me, we should get to know each other better.” Yuuri hummed again, showing he was listening, waiting for Viktor to continue. “What’s in this city? Where do you skate?” He placed his hands on the floor, leaning forward a little, brimming with curiosity. “Do you have a lover? Yuuri-sensei?”

Yuuri didn’t respond immediately, finishing off the work on the futon before turning to face Viktor. He regarded the younger man with interest.

And then the smirk was back, and Viktor felt his cheeks flush as if Yuuri had flipped a switch within him.

“Viktor…” he said in his smooth, deep, chocolatey voice, leaning towards him. It took Viktor approximately two seconds to register one of Yuuri’s hands was tilting his chin upwards while the other slid around his own hand, still on the floor. He blushed furiously, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t _breathe_. Yuuri was close. _Too close_. He was so close that Viktor could see the subtle hints of gold in brown in his eyes, the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled in amusement, and even the individual strands of hair above his forehead.

“…you’re just as eager off the ice as you are on it.” He continued, running his thumb along Victor’s chin lightly. “My first job as your coach will be to teach you patience.” He leaned a little forward and Viktor was positive he would die right then and there from a heart attack, asphyxiation and a stroke. Simultaneously. “We will have time to get to know each other.”

Viktor shuddered, goosebumps prickling his body. Yuuri’s breath was hot against his skin, tickling his ear. It smelled of sake and katsudon, and he still smelled of the fresh soap found in the onsen, along with a more musky scent, probably from their evening work-out. Viktor could practically feel the smug smile against his skin.

When he thought Yuuri couldn’t surprise him even more, he did just that. Viktor inhaled sharply when soft lips lightly pressed against his cheek for a moment so brief he was quite certain he had imagined it.

The following second, Yuuri was on his feet, heading out of the room.

“Sleep well, Viktor.”

Viktor didn’t manage a reply. He couldn’t move. He did however manage to slowly let out a long breath he had been holding, clutching his chest where his heart was thumping fiercely against his ribcage, panting like he had just finished a particularly exhausting free skate routine. He felt his cheeks burnt along with his ears, his neck and even his chest.

Was it even legal to be that attractive?

Viktor didn’t know, but he found it incredulously unfair. And he loved every minute of it.

 

**

 

“Do you have feelings for Minako-sensei?”

Yuuri burst out laughing.

“She’s older than my mother!” Yuuri laughed. “They went to school together. That’s why mother calls her Minako-senpai.”

“Oh.” Viktor blinked. He wasn’t too familiar with Japanese honorifics yet, though he had tried to learn some on the plane to Japan so as not to appear rude when he addressed someone. “Then, do you have a lover, Yuuri-sensei?”

“No.”

“Is there a girl you like?”

“No.”

“Ex-lovers?”

“You’re awfully interested in my love life.”

Viktor blushed furiously, but stood his ground.

“Well, that was one of the few things you never told to the press, ever.” He said, feeling a little sheepish.

“Because there was nothing to tell.” Yuuri shrugged, unfazed. “Tell me more about yourself instead, Viktor.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to coach you.” The older skater reminded him. “I need to know more about you for that to be fruitful.”

“Ah, of course.” Viktor couldn’t argue with that. He felt a little giddy about it, to be honest. “What would you like to know, Yuuri-sensei?”

“Hmm…” Yuuri sat down on the bench on top of the hill they had climbed towards Hasetsu Castle, and Viktor plopped down right beside him, eagerly waiting for a question, “…is silver your natural hair color?”

“Yes.” Viktor nodded.

“Favorite color?”

“Pink.” Of course it was.

“How old is Yurochka?”

“Seven.”

“You know, I have some knowledge of how Russian nicknaming works. Mila does call Yuri Plisetsky Yurachka, after all.”

Viktor blushed a million shades of red. Yuuri was smiling smugly, amused.

“I take it he _isn’t_ named after the Russian Fairy, if he’s seven years old.”

_Damn it!_

“Well, you had a poodle, too…” Viktor trailed off, feeling his ears grow hot.

“Mm-hmm, a poodle that happens to be a year older that your Yurochka.” Viktor’s breath hitched as Yuuri’s hand brushed against his own. “I’m flattered, Viktor.”

Viktor was entirely not sure anymore what he had gotten himself into. He did however know that if he wasn’t going to die of embarrassment and sensory overload anytime soon, he would damn well take all of Yuuri he could have for as long as possible. Even if that meant spending the rest of his life looking like a perfect imitation of a tomato.

Yuuri really wasn’t playing fair!

 

**

 

“That’s enough for today.” Yuuri decided after Viktor landed another quad loop on shaking legs. “Come on, let’s stretch and and go back to the inn.”

“H-hai.” Viktor panted, skating to the entrance of the rink and stepping out.

Yuuri helped him stretch in the locker room, hands firmly planted on Viktor’s lower back to push just a little bit extra to get his muscles to loosen up.

“I will make a training schedule for you once we get home.” Yuuri told him casually, as if he wasn’t brushing his hand against Viktor’s side to make him lean towards his right leg. “We will jog to the rink after breakfast in the morning and have our lunch packed with us so we can eat here, like we did today. In the afternoon, we will work off the ice, be it at the gym, outside, or at Minako’s dance studio, depending on what we’re aiming for. Have you taken ballet or anything similar to help with your skating?”

“We all had to do ballet with Lilia Baranovskaya during Yakov’s summer training camps.” Viktor replied, grabbing his feet with his hands, leaning forward. “But no more than that. I did Argentinian tango for some time, too.” Yuuri hummed.

“I’ll note that for possible choreographies, then… unless you want to do them yourself?”

“No!” Viktor said quickly, shaking his head. Then, realizing his reaction, he turned bright red. “I-I mean… I would like if you could choreograph them for me, sensei.”

“As you wish, then.” Yuuri complied softly, making the blush on Viktor’s cheeks extend to his ears. “Do you want to choose your own music?”

Viktor mulled the question over for a while, answering only when they finally stood up:

“Maybe… maybe for the free skate.” He said, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “Not that I have anything in mind just yet…” he steeled himself, looking up at his coach with determination, “…I want to skate a short program you make, Yuuri-sensei.”

Yuuri hummed, then nodded.

“That could probably be arranged.” He smiled. Sincere.

Viktor felt his face break into a radiating, sunbright grin.

 _This_ , he thought, _this is what I’ve always dreamed of._

And now, he wanted more. He could be selfish like that.

 

**

 

Then Yuri Plisetsky showed up.

A very angry looking Yuri Plisetsky, who was now looming above Viktor, who in turn laid splayed out on the floor after the harsh kick directed to his back.

“What the hell were you thinking, you moron!?” He spat at Viktor, who still hadn’t fully pieced together what had just transpired.

“Huh, Yuri?” Was his intelligent response. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think you could just snatch the Japanese Ice Queen all to yourself?” Yuri hissed as Viktor removed the foot from his chest and stumbled to his feet. “You selfish prick. There’s a ton of skaters out there looking for him to coach them, and you just ran all the way here to not even give him a choice about it.”

“He did agree, though.” Viktor said, feeling a bit lost. Yuri had always admired Yuuri, there was no denying that, but he had rolled his eyes at Viktor several times for plastering every inch of the walls in his bedroom with hundreds of posters featuring the Japanese Ice Queen, and had scolded Viktor harshly over and over again for obsessing over Yuuri. So in a way, it made sense he would like to scold Viktor more.

It didn’t make sense, however, that a 15-year-old just had managed to make his way to Japan in order to hunt him and Yuuri down. His grandfather must have signed the papers for him, Viktor thought.

And Yakov was probably pissed beyond belief.

“Why did you leave, you idiot?” Yuri continued, ignoring Viktor’s comment. Viktor blinked again, then smiled.

“Because I wanted Yuuri-sensei to coach me, of course.” He said. “Yakov is good, but Yakov is also Yakov. He’s grumpy and he’s getting old.”

“Come back to Russia.” Yuri snapped.

“Huh?” Viktor asked, utterly confused. “What, back to Russia?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to back to Russia!”

“Take the Queen with you, stupid.” Yuuri growled. “Take him with you so he can coach the both of us.”

Silence.

Viktor’s mind felt blank. He bit his lip, then forced a small smile.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” He finally said, gesturing to the door leading to the rink. “He’s in there.”

Viktor led the way and a grumpy Yuri followed him tight on his heels. Feeling a little more confident now, Viktor pushed the doors open and they entered.

He was, yet again, not prepared for what he saw. Judging by the look on Yuri’s face, he wasn’t either.

Yuuri danced on the ice without music, and even though Viktor had no idea what music could make the movements justice, he could hear it clear as day in his head. Yuuri clapped his hands and then let them run down and up his slender body as his feet turned outwards into a spread eagle. It was seductive and alluring…

…and then the tone changed completely, and Viktor suspected Yuuri fell into another choregraphy altogether, because the music in his head changed as well. This time, Yuuri’s movements were much more serene, flowy yet restrained as he threw himself into an insanely difficult step sequence followed by a perfectly shaped Biellmann spin that lead further to a long combination spin. He stopped standing straight, back arched with graceful perfection, arms raised towards the ceiling. He was panting, chest heaving before straightening up from the final pose, looking thoughtful for a moment before looking over to the rinkside and spotting the two Russians looking at him in a mixture of shock and awe. Yuuri cocked an eyebrow and skated over to them in languid movements.

“Yuri Plisetsky, welcome to Hasetsu.” He said casully, pulling to a halt and taking a sip of his water. “Whatever brings you here, young man?”

“This idiot.” Yuri hissed, poking Viktor hard in the ribs, ‘ow!’. “He just went ahead and left.” Yuri’s hands curled into fists. “If you’re going to coach him, you’re going to coach me, too!”

Yuuri regarded the boy with interest, looking exceedingly thoughtful.

“You’re fifteen, yes? Entering the senior division this year?”

“What about it?” Yuri grunted.

“You know you can’t stay in Japan to train, right?” Yuuri pointed out, pulling on his hoodie. “You’re too young to get that long a visa without a family member here with you. And what do I tell Yakov? He’s going to accuse me for stealing his star students, like he didn’t do that already.”

“Then come to Russia!” Yuri snapped, slamming his fist onto the railing, fierce determination and anger written across his features. “You can move there. We can train there!”

“I don’t want to go back to Russia!” Viktor snapped in turn, shaking his head fervently.

“Then you stay here and sulk, bloody idiot!”

Yuuri snapped his fingers and both Viktor and Yuri immediately shut their mouths. He regarded them both for a long moment, seemingly thinking really hard. Then, he hummed.

Viktor loved that hum. That deep rumble felt so soothing, even at a time like this. It made him want to curl up and disappear from the world in Yuuri’s embrace, ear pressed against his chest so all he would be able to hear was Yuuri’s heartbeat and his hum.

“I have an idea.” Yuuri finally announced. The Russian skaters perked their ears. “I have two choreographies just about done, made to two different arrangements of the same music. I will perfect them during this week, and then assign them to you. From there, you have a week to practice them and then…”

“A showdown!”

The triplets had joined them at some point, grinning from ear to ear with mischief shining in their eyes. Yuuri clasped his hands together.

“Yes, a showdown.” He agreed. “Here at Hasetsu Ice Castle in two weeks time.”

“Onsen on Ice!” Lutz suggested eagerly.

“Hosted by the Japanese Ice Queen, Katsuki Yuuri!” Axel nodded fervently.

“A showdown between the Russia’s star skaters, Yuri Plisetsky and Viktor Nikiforov!” Loop added.

“Tell your mother to call Minako.” Yuuri told the triplets. “We have posters to make.”

“This is going to be awesome!” The triplets exclaimed excitedly, hurrying out the door to find Yuuko. Yuuri, meanwhile, smiled smugly at the two Russians.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, pointing to their feet. “If I’m going to choreograph short programs for the both of you and you’re going to be ready to perform them in two weeks, you might want to get onto the ice.”

Viktor hurried over to the bench to do as he was told. Yuri, meanwhile, stared at Yuuri.

“You… you would choreograph a short program for my senior debut?” He asked, voice softer than before. Yuuri smiled.

“If you want me to, I will. I have a choreography that I can work to suit you.”

Yuri looked starstruck for a moment. Then, the steel determination was back and he nodded.

“I will win that showdown!” He stated, clenching his fist. “And when I do, we’re all going to Russia, and you’re going to coach me, too!”

Yuuri didn’t seem too fazed about the demand. Instead, he nodded, and then turned to Viktor.

“And what would you like if you won, Viktor?” He asked.

You was Viktor’s immediate thought. How to tell Yuuri that without saying it straight? He bit his bottom lip.

“I…” he searched for words, “…I want to stay in Hasetsu and have katsudon with you!”

Yuri’s expression was filled with surprised disbelief, but Yuuri’s was very much different. He blinked once, and then his face broke into a smile so warm it melted Viktor’s insides into a small puddle on the floor. Yuuri nodded again.

“I’d like that.”

 

**

 

“Have you ever thought about love?” Yuuri asked as he skated up to stand in front of the two younger skaters, remote control in hand. Viktor and Yuri shook their heads. And Viktor might have been lying. A bit. Yuuri nodded.

“Well, now is as good a time as any to start.” He said, pressing play on the remote.

A serene, beatiful song floated through the speakers, a beautiful soprano singing in… latin? They listened in silence for a while, and Viktor felt as if a warm hand was closing around his heart. He loved this melody.

“What do you think about when you hear this?” Yuuri asked, looking at Viktor, clearly having seen some sort of reaction in his facial features.

“It’s… innocent and pure.” Viktor replied, searching for words to describe the feeling he gets from the song. “Like someone who has found love and wants to do anything for that other person no matter what.”

Yuuri hummed, nodding.

“This is On Love: Agape.” He told them. “Agape, unconditional love. Your interpretation is quite accurate, Viktor.”

Viktor beamed. Yurio was obviously annoyed.

“It sounds boring.” He told Yuuri bluntly. “What’s the other song?”

Yuuri smirked.

“This.” He pressed the forward-button.

The arrangement was completely different. A seductive guitar, sharp violins and the clapping of castanets filled the air around them, luring the listener to want to chase after the melody as if it could run away. Yurio grinned.

“I like this one.” He immediately said. “What is it?”

“On Love: Eros.” Yuuri replied. “Eros represents passionate, sexual love, in contrast to the selfless and unconditional love Agape stands for. It’s fierce and seductive, while Agape is breathtaking and captivating in a different way.”

“I want to skate Eros.” Yuri stated, determined.

That would mean Viktor would get Agape. He was quite happy about that, so he didn’t fight Yurio on it. Meanwhile, Yuuri rested his elbow on his hand, placing the remote control to his chin, looking at them thoughtfully.

“The figure skating world is filled with harsh competition.” He reminded them. “If you want to capture the audience and the judges alike, you need to keep surprising them.” His smirk broke into a grin. “Therefore, Viktor will skate Eros, and Yurio will skate Agape.”

Stunned silence. If someone dropped a nail now, it could probably be heard all the way to the locker room.

“WHAT!?” Viktor and Yurio exclaimed at the same time. Yuuri seemed mostly amused at their reaction, not budging for a second.

“I’ve watched all your programs, and you’re both starting to become predictable already.” He said casually. “Yurio’s programs are fierce and on the verge of aggressive, not to mention greedy, while Viktor’s programs are more serene and eager, playful. It won’t do that you constantly keep falling into those same tracks. You need to surprise! You’re both far more predictable and mediocre than you think; it’s time to step up your game.” He turned to Yurio. “You want a program that will give you a strong senior debut, yes?”

“Yeah!” Yurio exclaimed.

“And you want a program I made to suit you, correct?” Yuuri asked Viktor, who nodded.

“Yes, sensei.”

“Well, then, there you have them.” Yuuri grinned, skating to the edge of the rink to take off his hoodie. “Now, do you want to see the choreographies? Get off the ice.”

Viktor and Yurio complied, getting out of the rink to stand behind the railing. Yuuri looked over to the door, waving.

“Yu-chan,” he greeted as Yuuko entered, skating up to her and handing her the remote. “Would you play the first track?”

“Of course.” She smiled, going to stand beside Viktor while Yuuri skated to the middle of the rink, getting into position. His arms were stretched back and his head downcast, back arched beautifully.

“Watch closely, Yurio.” Yuuri told the boy. “This is Agape.”

The music started. Yuuri moved. Viktor stopped breathing again, and he swore Yurio did, too.

Yuuri’s Agape was beyond beutiful. He performed the jumps with hands stretched towards the ceiling, a feat which would probably have earned him another world record, and when he got to the closing step sequence, Viktor recognized it as the routine Yuuri had skated to without music a week ago. He finally came to a halt after a beautiful combination spin and stretched into the final pose, hands reaching upwards in a prayer, giving his heart away unconditionally, not asking for reciprocation but merely acceptance.

He turned to them, hand on his hip.

“Something like that.” He told Yurio. “Think you got the gist of it?”

“Yeah.” Yurio nodded. “But I’ve never jumped with my arms in the air before.”

“There’s no need, it’s still a high-difficulty program with a high base score, even without the arm stretches.” Yuuri shrugged. “They come naturally to me in this program. Maybe that’s something to practice with the Grand Prix Final in mind, rather than perfecting them in a week, don’t you think?”

Yurio muttered something that sounded like ‘yeah, sure.’

“Alright, Viktor,” Yuuri said, adjusting his position on the ice again. “Ready for Eros? Track two, Yu-chan.”

Viktor nodded, and Yuuko pressed play.

He wasn’t ready for Eros. At all.

Especially not _Yuuri’s_ Eros.

Seductive hands trailed down his body and swayed over his head as he skated a little backwards, halted sharply with the tip of his skate pointing towards the ice. He looked directly at Viktor as he smirked, then winked.

Viktor was quite sure he had died, gone to the sweetest depths of hell for his v _ery much inappropriate_ thoughts, and returned not regretting it one bit. All of those thoughts passed through his head even before Yuuri skated into an alluring and intense step sequence that he just couldn’t look away from.

He couldn’t look away from Yuuri.

Spread eagle, triple axel, combination spin…

The program ended with a quad toe loop and double toe loop combination jump and a combination spin, before Yuuri skated backwards again, pirouetting on the spot only to come to a sharp halt, arms wrapped around himself as if embracing an invisible lover, toe pointing down towards the ice again in a possessive, alluring pose.

“There you have it.” He said, turning to Viktor again as he skated up to them to have some water. “What do you think?”

Viktor would be surprised if he wasn’t pregnant with Yuuri’s children at this point. Yuuri oozed something that could only be described as innocent sex appeal, and that made the program all the more seductive and enthralling.

_Can I even skate this!?_

“Uh, um, I…” he replied intelligently, blinking, “…wow.”

“That reminded me a little of your Tango de Roxanne, Yuuri.” Yuuko saved him.

“Ah, yes, there are a few similarities, certainly when it comes to the feeling.” Yuuri agreed. “Agape is more Suteki Da Ne, I think.”

“I thought so, too.” Yuuko nodded excitedly.

“Let’s see then…” Yuuri looked from Viktor to Yurio, pondering, “…what quads can you land?” He asked Yurio.

“Toe loop and salchow.” He said. “Yakov hasn’t let me do anything else yet.”

“Toe loop and salchow will do fine, and I know you can land a triple axel.” Yuuri said, a decisive tone in his voice. “Well, then, I need to teach you the routines. Yurio, we’ll go through Agape first, and work out the technicalities and the jumps. Yu-chan, would you mind taking Viktor for an outdoor work-out meanwhile?”

“Of course.” Yuuko smiled. “When do you want him back?”

“We’ll swap after lunch.”

“Alright.” Yuuko nudged Viktor. “Come along, let’s go run up the stairs and do some bench jumps.” Viktor nodded, albeit a little disappointed Yuuri chose to coach Yurio first, but then again, he would have his coach for himself the whole afternoon. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Hai!” He chirped instead, picking up his water bottle. “See you later, Yuuri-sensei.”

 

“How was it?” Viktor asked, panting from exertion. “Sensei?”

Yuuri looked thoughtful.

“You learn technique quickly.” He replied. “When you know the choreography by heart, you need to put Eros into it. For now, your presentational score would be very low.”

Viktor knew that.

“You need to find Eros, and you need to find it soon.” Yuuri continued. “Not only will it help you with presentation, but it will also boost your technical score. By the way, that was your worst triple axel to date, and that needs to be fixed.”

“Hai, sensei.” Viktor nodded fervently. _I can do better!_

“What is Eros to you, Viktor?”

Said Russian skater gaped.

“Wh-what?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Yuuri hummed and then skated up to him. Viktor suddenly felt extremely self-conscious when Yuuri glided right into his personal space, pulling to a halt when he was mere inches away, his right skate in between Viktor’s. That smirk really should be illegal.

_And this man should come with neon warning signs!_

Viktor blushed up to his ears and down to his neck when Yuuri’s smooth fingers were placed under his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. A shudder ran up Viktor’s spine as Yuuri brushed his thumb along his bottom lip, stilling in the middle to gently pull it slightly downwards.

If it weren’t for the hand holding his chin, Viktor would be lying on the ice due to his knees giving out beneath him. Yuuri was still smirking, and he was unbearably close.

Yet Viktor wouldn’t have minded if Yuuri was just a little bit closer still…

“No one in the whole world knows your true Eros, Viktor.” Yuuri murmured, no, _purred_. “It’s time for you to discover it, and then show it to me. Show it to the world.” He leaned in a little closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “In a week.”

And then he skated backwards, back to the rinkside, leaving Viktor flustered and beet-red in the middle of the ice.

_Unfair!_

“Viktor,” he turned to Yuuri, “think long and hard about what Eros is to you. You want to win, correct?” Viktor nodded fervently. “Then start looking for your Eros. For now, let’s get the choreography down.” He grabbed the remote. “One more time, together.”

 

“No.”

Viktor gaped.

“What…? Sensei?”

Yuuri shook his head.

“You’re too eager.” He scolded. “You’re chasing the music… no, actually, you’re running away from the music. That won’t do.”

No, that won’t do. Viktor knew that. He steeled himself.

“What do you think about when you skate this program? Sensei?”

Yuuri hummed, then smirked.

“What do you _see_ when I skate the program, Viktor?” He turned the question back.

Viktor pondered for a moment.

“A playboy comes to town.” He began slowly. “He woos women left and right, sweeps them off their feet and then casts them aside. He pursues the most beautiful woman in town, but she rejects him time and time again. By the time he finally captures her, he has fallen in love and gives up his adventurous ways.”

Viktor could see it clearly in front of him, imagining the story combined with the choreography. It was clear as day. And yet… he steeled himself. He had to ask.

“Do you imagine yourself as the playboy or the woman? Sensei?”

Yuuri chuckled, smiling smugly.

“What do you think?” He winked, then skated off to the side. “Again, Viktor.”

_The woman._

Of course Yuuri was the woman. Those androgynous, feminine movements, the seductive footwork… He wasn’t called the Japanese Ice Queen for nothing.

Viktor would have to capture that Queen.

Somehow.

 

“Huh, Viktor-kun?” Minako asked, surprised. “What are you doing here? It’s past midnight.”

Viktor took a deep breath.

“Minako-sensei, I need you to teach me something.” He fidgeted with his jacket. “Please.”

She blinked, but didn’t question it further as she saw the determined look in his eyes.

“Then come in.”

Viktor headed straight to the studio while Minako went to change into training clothes. He slipped on his dancing shoes and did a few stretches to warm up. The teacher joined him minutes later, two water bottles in hand.

“So,” Minako said, turning to face him, “what do you need help with?” Viktor steeled himself.

“I need you to teach me how to move in more feminine ways.”

The story he imagined when Yuuri skated Eros just needed a tiny little tweak, just a small one, and it would be something Viktor could relate to. The playboy didn’t matter. It was the woman that mattered, and Viktor would have to seduce that woman in a way a playboy never could.

 

The evening before the showdown, Viktor entered his bedroom and closed the sliding door behind him. He smiled giddily. Yuuri’s Tange de Roxanne-costume was hanging beside the mirror, the silver crystals sparkling softly in the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand. He skipped over to it to touch the smooth fabric, admiring it up close.

Yuuri had worn this costume.

Viktor remembered the choreography like the back of his hand, as he had tried to replicate it so many times in the past. It was one of his favorites. Then again, he couldn’t really pinpoint it that way. All of Yuuri’s programs were his favorites.

Yuuri on Ice might have been the one to stand out among the rest, though. That one was special in its very own, unique way. It was so very uniquely Yuuri.

Viktor slipped out of his yukata and stepped into the costume, shaky hands pulling up the almost unnoticable zipper on the back. He took a deep breath and stepped in front of the mirror.

Wow!

Viktor couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. He looked _good_ in it! He was wearing Yuuri’s costume, and it fit him perfectly. The tight, black fabric latched onto his skin, the see through mesh on half of the upper body tickling his nerve-ends in a familiar-yet-not-manner. Viktor twirled around, watching giddily as the half-skirt flowed beautifully as he did. He held back a squeal of happiness, clapping his hands to himself.

An idea suddenly struck him as he looked at his hair. He would be forced to have it tied into a ponytail due to the intense step sequence and all the spins, but maybe…

He quickly rummaged through his accessories until he found what he was looking for, grinning. He tightened the high ponytail and slid the black velvet band around it, tying it into a bow. Back to the mirror.

Perfect fit.

Satisfied with himself, he struck the beginning pose, angling his hips just right, making sure his back curved in a similar manner to Yuuri’s. Hands up, down, twirl them… next pose. He had to make sure he did this one in Yuuri’s direction. He wanted to look at him and make him watch the whole program through. He positioned his legs, one towards the mirror, making sure his body followed that leg. Then he spent at least ten minutes trying to perfect the next part, when he was to turn his head directly in Yuuri’s direction and then smirk seductively. He wasn’t too comfortable with the wink, as his other eye seemed to twitch every time he tried it, so he dropped that in favor of batting his eyelashes. It suited him better, he decided.

He wanted to invite Yuuri to the chase as much as he wanted to chase him.

And he was damn well going to capture him, one way or another.

Viktor did _not_ want to return to Russia. Period.

 

**

 

Despite losing Agape halfway through the routine, Yurio ended his performance without technical flaws. He greeted the audience and stepped off the ice, receiving a warm smile and a hug from Yuuri as he told him something Viktor couldn’t hear. He saw Yurio nod. Yuuri then motioned for Viktor to come over.

He took a deep breath.

It was his turn.

Yuuri held out a hand to take his jacket, and Viktor shrugged it off his shoulders to hand it to his coach. Yuuri’s deep brown orbs were reassuring and oh so _warm_ , gazing softly into Viktor’s blue ones. A hand on his shoulder.

“Show me your Eros, Viktor.” He said, low enough for no one else to hear. “Can you do that for me?”

Despite his cheeks tinting pink, Viktor nodded.

“Hai, sensei.” He said. Then he bit his lower lip. “Sensei…”

“…yes, Viktor?”

Viktor took a deep breath, then stepped into Yuuri’s personal space to hug him. Yuuri’s strong arms wrapped around him in turn, tight and secure. Viktor inhaled the scent of ice, spring and oriental spices, feeling himself relax under the influence of Yuuri’s familiar scent.

“I’m going to do my best.” Viktor told him speaking into the crook of Yuuri’s neck. “Please watch me, Yuuri-sensei.”

He could practically feel Yuuri smile.

“Of course I will watch you, Viktor.” Yuuri replied solemnly. “Every move. Now…” he broke apart from Viktor, smiling, “…your turn.”

“Hai!”

The announcer called out his name as Viktor glided onto the ice to greet the audience while skating up into the middle of the rink. He got into position just like he had practiced in front of the mirror the night before, fully aware of how his spine was curved just so, hips angled, shoulders back. Before he closed his eyes, he made sure he was turned in the correct direction so that when it was time to shoot a smirk Yuuri’s way, he would be in the correct position to do so.

Eyes fluttered close.

The first teasing trembles of the guitar played and Viktor opened his eyes, half-lidded, running his arms down his body seductively, putting all the extra training to use to get the movements just right. He skated backwards.

Stop.

Turn.

Brown eyes watching him expectantly.

Perfect.

He swore he heard Yuuri let out a small whistle when he smirked and batted his eyelashes, painted black for the occasion, just like his fingernails. Feeling a surge of energy run through him Viktor dove head-first into the seductive step sequence.

_I know who I’m skating for._

Viktor let the feeling seep into his every pore to flow out of his body with maximum enthrallment. He was aware of every twist and turn of his body, of the skates gliding across the ice, every little movement he made with his hands.

_A playboy comes to town._

Clap.

Hands run down and twirl up.

Spine curved.

Spread eagle.

_He pursues the most beautiful woman of them all._

Brown eyes on him.

Good.

 _She rejects him time and time again_.

Spread eagle into a triple axel.

Landed it!

_Until he falls for her._

Viktor spread his arms behind him like wings, about to take flight as he raised them upwards with a twirl of his hands. Time to jump…!

Landed the quad salchow, too.

_The woman breaks the playboy’s heart._

Quadruple toe loop, triple toe loop.

Only the combination spin left.

_Time to lure her in!_

Viktor skated backwards towards the center of the rink.

_The woman casts the playboy aside. She doesn’t need him._

_She already has what she needs... or who.  
_

The music came to a climax and Viktor finished the routine, toe pointed, arms wrapped around an invisible lover. His chest heaved in heavy breaths as Viktor tried catching every ounce of oxygen he could get.

The audience was cheering rampantly, extatic. It was louder than after Yurio’s skate. Viktor greeted the audience on auto-pilot, smiling and taking his bow. Then he turned around.

Warm, brown eyes were smiling at him, and Viktor would gladly drown in that smile that accompanied them. Yuuri stretched out his arms and Viktor skated over to him as fast as he could, arms stretched out and beaming like the sun as he collided with Yuuri’s dark blue coat, grinning widely into his shoulder. He couldn’t help a laugh escaping his lips and Yuuri chuckled, too.

“Wonderful, Viktor.” He praised and Viktor’s cheeks flushed in happiness. “It seems you found your Eros. Well done.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Viktor sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in Yuuri’s closeness and scent.

“However…” Yuuri straightened up, hands still on Viktor’s shoulders as he looked him straight in the eye. Viktor paled.

“Yes, sensei?” He asked, nervous. Had Yurio still done better than him?

“What was with that spread eagle into a triple axel? That was your worst attempt so far…”

Viktor would gladly take all the critique in the world for his performance as long as he could breathe out a huge sigh of relief inwardly, which he did. He had won this, he knew it. Yurio had lost Agape about halfway through, but Viktor hadn’t lost Eros.

He hadn’t lost Eros because his very own Eros was now giving him a full-on honest feedback on his performance, and he was intent on taking every word to heart. He could do better still. He could and he _would_.

Much to Viktor’s disappointment and Yuuri’s concern, Yurio had left directly after Viktor’s performance. He knew he had lost and wanted to catch a plane back to Russia immediately to keep going under Yakov. He did, however leave a couple of messages to them relayed via Yuuko. While Viktor got a message that consisted of so many profanities and insults that Yuuko only told him Yurio’s point was that he would win over Viktor during the Grand Prix-series and every other possible competition, the message for Yuuri was all the more sweet, considering who it came from.

Yurio had thanked Yuuri for the choreography and promised he would use it to win.

Yuuri sent him a text in turn.

Therefore, Viktor and Yuuri stood on the podium without Yurio, Viktor holding a microphone in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, smiling brightly as he felt Yuuri place an arm around his shoulders. A faint shade of pink dusted his cheeks, partly from the cold but mostly from the happiness as he gave his statement:

“This year, Yuuri-sensei and I will win at the Grand Prix Final.”

The crowd cheered, and it only got wilder when Viktor elegantly handed the flowers to Yuuri instead, hugging his coach and thanking him profusely. Yuuri smiled warmly as he accepted the gesture, but the look in his eyes told Viktor more than that.

It told Viktor he was in for months of aching muscles and sore feet.

And he couldn’t be happier about it.

But for now…

“Let’s go have katsudon together, Yuuri-sensei!” Viktor grinned happily as they were ready to head out of the Ice Castle, grabbing Yuuri’s hand to drag him along. Yuuri laughed. Viktor really wanted to hear that sound more often.

“As promised.” He said. “Viktor, _slow down!_ ”

“Why, are you getting old?” The child-at-heart grinned cheekily.

“I retired, didn’t I?” Yuuri smirked back.

_...damn him!_

“Can’t keep up with me?” Viktor inquired, feeling bold while still running on the adrenaline of his performance and his win.

“You…” Yuuri replied, tapping on Viktor’s nose with his index finger, “…are too eager.” Viktor pouted.

“Why is that a bad thing?” He puffed up his cheeks, looking like a child who had been denied his favorite candy.

“Put it this way…” Yuuri said, tracing Viktor’s facial features with his finger like he wasn’t doing anything more intimate than talking about the weather, “…when you sprint ahead, then no, I can’t keep up with you. In a short distance race, you would win easily. Then again, in a long distance race, you would start off strong and get a good headstart, but then exhaustion would catch up with you, and you would lose speed. As you do that, I would be able to close the gap and then run right past you, because…” his finger stopped under Viktor’s chin, tilting it upwards, “…I sprint at the end of the race.”

Viktor’s eyes had gone wide and hadn’t Yuuri been holding his chin, he would probably be gaping. His cheeks were burning pink.

He was still holding Yuuri’s other hand in his.

“O-oh.” Was his Einstein-level-of-genius reply. Yuuri hummed.

“With that thought planted in your mind…” he then smiled, squeezing Viktor’s hand slightly, “…let’s go have katsudon together, as you wished.”

Viktor’s eyes lit up as his face broke into a bright grin.

“Hai!”

 

**

 

Finding the perfect music to balance out Eros was way more difficult than Viktor thought it would be. While Spotify and Youtube seemed to be filled with music that represented longing and yearning, in contrast to passion and desire, he didn’t come across anything that felt right. They were all wrong! They didn’t do justice for the thoughts and feelings Viktor wanted to convey, and that wouldn’t do.

One late night turned into two, then three, then a whole week. Viktor was exhausted beyond belief, with dark circles under his eyes as he determinedly kept searching the World Wide Web for a suitable melody that was just the right length. Despite his fatigue, Viktor trained hard during the days, perfecting his short program and practicing technical elements under Yuuri’s guidance, working out and training in the dance studio. He was aware Yuuri knew of his exhaustion, but he didn’t want to let his coach down, so he continued to train. He continued to search.

Of course, the fatigue would come to bite him in the bum eventually.

Viktor groaned as he woke up to Yurochka licking his face, wagging his tail cheerfully as he beckoned his master out of his sleep. He blinked sleepily, absentmindedly scratching his poodle behind the ear for a while. The canine nudged him with its nose, and it was only then that Viktor reached for his phone to have a look at the time. He yelped, eyes shooting wide open as he sat up straight, horrified.

_It was four in the afternoon!_

Panicking, Viktor threw his clothes on, grabbed his backpack, ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair before descending the stairs in a haste, trying to tie his hair into a ponytail at the same time, Yurochka right on his tail.

“Good morning, Viktor.”

Yuuri sounded amused, and his eyes and smile told Viktor he was exactly that, kneeling by the table with a book in front of him and a sleeping Kyo-chan by his side. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a blue v-neck sweater that revealed a white-and-blue-striped t-shirt underneath. His hair was combed back as usual, but he was wearing his glasses like he did after the bath and on their days off.

Viktor’s face instantly heated up with guilt and embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, sensei.” He said, shoulders slumping. Yuuri chuckled.

“Only the Russian Aeroflot has ever made me wait as long as you have.” He told Viktor, but his voice was soft and Viktor relaxed. Yuuri placed a bookmark between the pages and stood up, stretching. “Sit down, I’ll get you something to eat. We’re taking the day off. Let’s go for a walk when you’re done, alright?”

“Okay.” Viktor sighed in relief, sitting down on his knees beside the table. “Thank you, sensei. Forgive me.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Resting is part of training, too.”

Viktor couldn’t have dreamt to ever have a better coach.

 

Only a couple of nights later, Viktor finally had some luck. He clicked on yet another Youtube link, eyes droopy, ready to give up as it was three in the morning.

_One more._

Soft music reached his ears through the earphones, followed by a steady tenor voice.

Viktor’s eyes widened as he was pulled out of his dazed state of mind. The aria was… beautiful. He looked at the title, recognizing it as Italian.

Stammi Vicino.

A quick Google translate later, he discovered it meant “stay close to me”. After another googling, he had the lyrics at his disposal, conveniently translated into English. He read the lyrics as he listened to the song a second time, then a third, then a seventh. By the time he came that far, he was grinning widely. It was just the right length, just the right feeling.

It was _just right_.

Ecstatic about his discovery, he completely ignored the fact that it was halfway to morning and ran to Yuuri’s room, phone in hand and dressed in his pajama shorts and over-sized t-shirt that kept falling off his slim shoulder. With only one knock as a warning, he burst into the room.

“Yuuri-sensei!” He said, excited, keeping his voice down nevertheless as he turned on the lamp on the nightstand. Aki-chan looked up at him sleepily from the end of the bed before deciding sleep to be more interesting than Viktor at the moment. Yuuri, on the other hand, squeezed his eyes shut at first at the light before blinking them open, peering at Viktor, who was waving his phone in his hand.

“You need to listen to this, Yuuri-sensei!” He insisted as Yuuri attempted to sit up a bit, leaning on his elbows. Viktor didn’t hesitate to straddle him immediately, pulling the earplugs out to put them into Yuuri’s ears instead. He pressed play, then waited.

Yuuri listened, expressionless in his half-asleep state. As the song progressed, however, he seemed to become more and more awake. Viktor held his breath.

As the song neared its end, Yuuri suddenly sat up fully, smiling appreciatively, brown eyes shining. He nodded in approval. Viktor let out a laugh in happiness, clapping his hands excitedly.

“What’s it called?” Yuuri asked, voice a little cracked from sleep.

“Stammi Vicino.” Viktor replied, accepting the headphones back, showing Yuuri the screen of his phone. “Apparently it means ‘stay close to me’.” Yuuri hummed.

“Perfect.” He decided. “We can work with this. I have a few ideas already.”

“Awesome!” Viktor squealed, throwing his phone onto the nightstand and his arms around Yuuri, tackling him back against the bed, the back of his raven-covered head hitting the pillow. Yuuri chuckled, patting Viktor on the shoulder.

“I will get to work on the choreography tomorrow.” He told Viktor.

“It will be perfect, Yuuri-sensei.” Viktor sighed, content and comfortable where he was, clinging onto Yuuri like a koala.

Yuuri was so warm and soft…

“Viktor…” Yuuri nudged him slightly, “…Viktor, go to sleep.”

“Mhmm…” Viktor hummed, eyes fluttering shut. He was exhausted, and he was comfortable.

And he absolutely refused to move.

“Viktor…” Yuuri sighed, his hand now rubbing small circles on Viktor’s back.

“Mm-Yuuriii…” Viktor sighed in turn. He didn’t hear a reply. Yuuri’s heartbeat was steady and calm, his chest rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. Those were the last things Viktor was aware off that night as he drifted off to sleep, right on top of his coach.

 

Yuuri sighed again as he noticed Viktor’s breathing turn heavy and his body limp. He had fallen asleep.

He absentmindedly stroke Viktor’s long, silver locks as he watched his students sleeping features curiously as well as he could from the angle available. Viktor’s pink lips were slightly parted, although he was breathing through his nose, his expression lax and peaceful. In the soft light of the lamp on the nightstand, his silver strands were cast in a shade of soft gold, shimmering beautifully.

Yuuri smiled.

Viktor was beautiful.

He allowed himself to indulge in the feeling of his lithe body pressed against his own, running his hand through the soft, silver hair. Viktor had showed quite clear signs of being interested in Yuuri in more ways than one, and Yuuri was positive that he himself was _very much_ interested in Viktor in more ways than one. His major issue with that was their coach-student relationship. Would they be able to keep a professional relationship separate from a romantic one?

He wasn’t sure.

Could they make something like that work?

He regarded the young man on his chest with interest, pondering.

He… would like to try. But it would be up to Viktor to take the final step.

They had to meet halfway.

Deciding he had had enough of late night thinking, Yuuri carefully moved Viktor enough for himself to be able to stand up. He placed Viktor’s phone in his pajama pocket and then gently slid one arm around Viktor’s shoulders and the other under the crook of his knees, lifting him up and carrying him back to his own room. Yuuri moved the covers on Viktor’s bed with his foot, kicking them to the far end of the bed before placing down the sleeping figure onto the mattress, head on the pillow. He tucked him in, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead before leaning down to press his lips to the silken skin for a brief moment.

“Sleep well, Vitya.”

His voice barely above a whisper.

A carefree smile tugged at the corners of Viktor’s mouth. Yuuri smiled in turn before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to something like this…

 

Viktor’s alarm went off the following morning and he groggily reached out a hand to tap the screen for snooze. He nuzzled into the pillow, sleep seeping into him again.

The first notes of Yuuri on Ice reached his ears again.

Right, time to get up.

Viktor sat up, rubbing his eyes as he turned on the light on the nightstand. He was in his own bed, in his own room, Yurochka sleeping soundly beside him. Viktor blinked.

Hadn’t he fallen asleep…?

A grin spread across his face. He had fallen asleep in Yuuri’s bed. On top of Yuuri. Warm Yuuri, soft Yuuri, altogether perfect pillow-mattress-combination Yuuri. And said Yuuri must have carried Viktor back to his room after he fell asleep.

Yuuri had let Viktor fall asleep on top of him instead of trying to shake him awake and tell him to move.

Viktor buried his face in his pillow and nearly screamed into it.

_Win!_

 

**

 

“It’s getting late.” Yuuri said, yawning. They had been looking for inspiration concerning Viktor’s free skate costume for the remainder of the evening after Viktor had showed up unannounced in his coach’s bedroom after dinner, and they had eventually decided to save a few of the pictures they liked and visit Yuuri’s former artesan the following week to let her work her magic. “It’s time for bed, Viktor.”

“Alright!” Viktor chirped, immediately diving under the covers in the coach’s bed before Yuuri had a chance to react. Viktor heard a sigh behind him.

“Viktor…”

“Yes, Yuuri-sensei?” He asked innocently, peering over the covers just enough to see Yuuri’s expression. He didn’t look angry or even slightly annoyed. If anything, he looked (slightly) amused.

“Your own bed.”

Viktor’s lips puckered into a tiny pout.

“But I want to sleep with you, Yuuri-sensei.”

“Viktor…”

“What?” Viktor grinned. “I fell asleep here yesterday. It was comfortable, and I want to do it again.”

Yuuri regarded him for a moment. Then, he sighed.

“Right.” Was his response as he stood up and stretched.

Yuuri left the room and Viktor could hear the bathroom door open and close. He took the opportunity to bury his nose into Yuuri’s pillow, inhaling the scent of onsen soap, ice and those soothing, Japanese spices. Had Viktor been a cat, he was sure he would have purred in delight and contentment. He reveled in the scent that was so distinguishably Yuuri, excited that the man himself would join him shortly and hoping for all it was worth that he wouldn’t ask Viktor to leave this time around.

Five minutes later, Yuuri was back, closing the door behind him. He placed his glasses on the desk and closed the lid on his laptop, turning off the lamp on the desk. Then, to Viktor’s utter joy and happiness, Yuuri slid under the covers beside him without protests. Viktor grinned brightly, immediately attaching himself to his coach, an arm around his slim waist, burying his face in Yuuri’s chest. The smell there was ten times better than the one on the pillow. Yuuri chuckled slightly at his actions, and when his fingers gently threaded through Viktor’s silver strands, the younger man hummed in appreciation.

“Think you can sleep better here?” Yuuri asked, amused.

“Mhmm.” Viktor hummed in response, nuzzling into Yuuri’s shoulder. Said raven chuckled again.

“Alright, then.” He reached behind him to turn off the light, then placed a soft kiss on top of Viktor’s head. “Good night, Vitya.”

Viktor swore a _purr_ escaped his lips at the nickname. Yuuri hadn’t been kidding when he said he knew a thing or two about Russian nicknaming costumes. He must have heard Yakov call him that.

“Good night, Yuuri.”

 

The following morning, Viktor woke up by the sunlight tickling his eyelids. Odd.

There were no windows in his bedroom…

Slowly, he opened his azure orbs and blinked, trying to adjust to the unusual brightness around him. As soon as he realized where he was, he buried his face into the pillow and _squealed_ , much like an overexcited schoolgirl who had just gotten home from the best date of her life.

Yuuri was nowhere in sight, but Viktor _had woken up in Yuuri’s bed!_

Spurred on by the development, Viktor did even better in practice from that day onward. He also started to permanently sleep in Yuuri’s bed, even though the man was already up and running every morning before Viktor woke up.

That signaled the next step in Viktor’s list of challenges: to wake up with Yuuri still in bed.

 

“Yuuri-sensei,” Viktor inquired as he straddled his coach one evening as per habit, his silver hair cascading down his back, making sure his oversized crop top pajamas fell off his left shoulder to reveal more skin, “We have a day off tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, it’s Saturday.” Yuuri nodded in confirmation, his back leaning against the headbord of his bed. “Why?”

“You should sleep in tomorrow, too, sensei.” Viktor chirped, smiling brightly. Yuuri chuckled, seeing exactly where the conversation was headed.

“I don’t know, I do like my morning runs.” He replied.

Viktor knew he was teasing. Therefore, he pouted.

“But you need to rest, too, sensei.” He argued, leaning on his hands that he had placed on Yuuri’s hips, making sure to wiggle his own hips slightly, discreetly, as he shifted. “You’re always up and about when I wake up, and you always fall asleep after me.” He poked Yuuri square in the chest. “You sleep too little, Yuuri-sensei.” He scolded.

Yuuri chuckled again, removing Viktor’s finger from his chest, guiding his hand away.

“Is that so?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow, amused. Viktor nodded, still pouting.

“Yes, it is.” He insisted, crossing his arms over his chest as he shifted slightly again in Yuuri’s lap.

“If you say so.” Yuuri replied, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Viktor was practically grinding on him. “Well, then, Viktor, here’s the deal…”

Viktor yelped as strong arms suddenly took hold of his waist and placed him down on the bed, Yuuri steadying himself on his elbow as he had Viktor where he wanted him to look down at the younger man, placing a finger on his chest like he had done to Yuuri moments ago.

“…if you’re not awake by ten, I will get up and have breakfast.” Viktor’s coach told him matter-of-factly, tapping his index finger on Viktor’s chest. “But if you are awake by ten, I might consider lazing around a while longer.”

Viktor frowned.

“’Might consider’?” He echoed in mock annoyance. Yuuri smirked.

That smirk _really_ should be illegal!

“That’s what I said. Need I repeat myself, _Vitya?_ ”

Viktor knew he was losing this battle very badly as he barely managed to hold back a noise somewhere between a gasp, a whimper and a moan when Yuuri used the pet name. He knew he was being teased, and he was annoyed.

Well, not really. He liked it. Not that he would tell Yuuri that.

“Meanie.” He pouted, frowning. Yuuri cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Am I?” He asked, big brown eyes looking down at Viktor with nothing but absolute innocence. “I let you sleep in my bed, don’t I?”

Yes, Viktor knew for certain he was losing this. Big time.

“Yuuriii~”

Viktor stopped whining the moment Yuuri’s index finger was removed from his chest only to press softly against his lips instead, effectively silencing him.

“Too eager, Vitya.” He ‘scolded’ gently, his voice patient and barely above a whisper.

With Viktor now quiet, Yuuri adjusted his pillow and laid down beside him, stretching out behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.

“I will wake up before ten.” Viktor muttered, reaching out to wrap his arm around Yuuri’s neck, burying his red cheeks into his chest. “And you will rest tomorrow, sensei.”

Yuuri hummed in response, and Viktor relished in the sensation of his coach running his fingers through his silver locks, lulling him into a daze. Soft lips pressed against the top of Viktor’s head briefly.

“Good night, Vitya.”

A smile spread across Viktor’s lips.

“Good night, Yuuri-sensei.”

 

Viktor _did_ wake up before ten the following morning (barely, it was ten to ten when he managed to open his eyes enough to glance at the clock on the wall). Yuuri was already awake, lying on his back, phone in hand, browsing through something or other. Probably Instagram. Probably Phichit Chulanont’s five hundred new selfies, Leo’s guitars and Chris’ not-safe-for-work collection of him in… well, mostly nothing at all.

Viktor immediately announced he was awake by slinging an arm around Yuuri’s waist, effectively latching onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Ohayoo, Viktor.” Yuuri greeted calmly, not taking his eyes off the screen of his phone. Viktor hummed something that could have been interpreted as _dobroe utro_ , but it was muffled by the fabric of Yuuri’s oversized t-shirt he had been using as a pajama top. Soon, though, the young Russian woke up enough to settle comfortably against Yuuri’s side, looking up at the phone screen with him.

He had been right; it was Instagram.

“Anything interesting?” He asked, glancing from the screen over to Yuuri and then back. Yuuri chuckled.

“No, not really.” He said, tapping twice to like a photo of Phichit posing with his pet hamsters. Plural. He swiped upwards, letting out a laugh. “Chris is shameless…”

“I did not need to see that first thing in the morning!” Viktor groaned, burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck again to make a point. Yuuri only laughed again. But really, Viktor hadn’t been prepared for his best friend in a _not full-body_ leotard (and nothing else), doing a split, _before he was even fully awake!_ Even if Chris was his best friend and he should be used to it.

He wasn’t.

“You of all people should know.” Yuuri grinned, somewhat fondly. “I think you might like this better, though.”

Viktor looked up. His eyes widened and he swore his pupils did too as he let out a delighted squeal.

“So _cute!_ ” He cooed, marveling the litter of hazel-brown poodle puppies shown in the photo. He reached up to tap on the picture twice, a heart briefly appearing on the screen as he did so. Yuuri chuckled.

“It’s a long time ago since our pooches looked like that, huh?” He commented, the look on his face making clear to Viktor he was reminiscing the time Aki-chan was still a little pup.

“Yeah.” Viktor agreed, remembering when he had gotten Yurochka and immediately named him after his idol without thinking twice.

Said dogs had snuck out of the room because they were nowhere in sight, and Viktor had a strong suspicion Yuuri had gotten up to go for a walk with them and feed them in the early morning when Viktor was still asleep, only to return alone afterwards to keep his own word of staying in bed if Viktor woke up before ten. Viktor didn’t ask, but he was 99% sure that was exactly how things had transpired, and instantly felt warm and giddy inside.

Yuuri had crawled back in bed for _him_.

They stayed in bed till lunchtime, making small-talk and scanning through social media, Yuuri questioning Viktor’s hashtag #katsudonsensei, a ‘discussion’ which ultimately led to Viktor being pinned to the mattress while Yuuri tickled him mercilessly, having discovered Viktor was indeed very ticklish. Viktor didn’t stop pouting until Yuuri kissed his cheek in a truce offering. That in turn led to Viktor tackling his coach in revenge to pepper his face with kisses everywhere but his lips, humming “sensei, sensei, sensei” as he did.

Viktor was so happy he thought his heart was going to burst. His cheeks were flushed a bright shade of red and he had a huge, bright grin on his face as Yuuri finally manage to convince him to brush his teeth and get dressed so they could have lunch together with his family.

Viktor was sure he was in love with Yuuri.

He just needed to figure out if Yuuri was in love with him, too.

 

**

 

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, lunging himself at his former roommate and best friend and almost tackling him in an effort to hug him.

“Phichit-kun.” Yuuri greeted, laughing. “Good to see you.”

“You, too!” Phichit grinned from ear to ear. “And hi, Viktor, you look well!” Viktor beamed at him as he stretched over Yuuri to shake the Thai skater’s hand.

“So do you!” He replied.

“Yuuuuri!” Celestino grinned broadly, enveloping Yuuri into a warm embrace, his Italian accent evident in the way he spoke Yuuri’s name. “How have you been? I hope my advice has been helping you out.”

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself tomorrow.” Yuuri grinned back. “Though I would claim it really has. I owe you, Ciao Ciao.”

“Nonsense.” Celestino waved it off, sitting down opposite Yuuri in the booth at the hot pot place while Phichit sat opposite Viktor. “And I do look forward to see for myself the upcoming two days, but don’t get cocky! The winner of the Cup of China is Phichit Chulanont!”

“Believe what you like, Ciao Ciao.” Yuuri replied smoothly as Phichit’s expression turned into a mischievous grin. “The scores will tell, not us. I have complete confidence in Viktor.”

“I won’t let you down, Yuuri-sensei.” Viktor chirped happily as they began serving themselves some food.

“You could never let me down, Viktor.”

“Sensei?” Phichit picked up the word, eyes twinkling. “That suits you, Yuuri.”

“He’s telling me I’m old.” Yuuri explained to Viktor. Phichit placed a hand over his heart, jaw dropping in mock-hurt.

“I was complimenting you, Your Majesty!” He gave a slight bow. “More seriously, though, Yuuri-sensei rolls off the tongue quite nicely. How do you like Japan so far, Viktor?” Viktor’s eyes sparkled in delight at the question and immediately set out to tell Phichit about absolutely everything he loved about Japan, so carefree and joyful it brought a smile to everyone’s face.

Less than halfway through the meal, Celestino ordered a bottle of sake and two cups, prompting Yuuri to have a drink with him as Viktor and Phichit for quite obvious reasons weren’t allowed to do that.

“Come on, Yuuri!” Celestino grinned heartily. “We’ll have to drink for our skaters tonight, too, and it’s your first event as a coach! We should celebrate!”

Yuuri looked a little uncertain, glancing over at Viktor.

“I don’t know,” he said, frowning slightly, “I don’t want to risk a hangover even slightly.” Viktor blinked at him with big, blue eyes.

“It’s okay, Yuuri-sensei.” Viktor told him. “We’ll be good, hangover or not.” Then, it was Viktor’s turn to frown. “But I haven’t seen you hungover before.”

“Let’s not start now, then.” Yuuri decided.

“But when the assignments came in, we shared five bottles of sake with Minako-sensei and your family, and you had almost as much as Minako without a hangover the following day. Don’t worry about it, sensei,” Viktor grinned, “Have a drink.”

“I don’t mind Ciao Ciao drinking the day before a competition either.” Phichit shrugged, ganging up with Viktor. “Hungover or not, he’s always supportive. I recall you never minded either, Yuuri.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Celestino smiled broadly, filling two cups of sake and handing one to Yuuri. “Kanpai!” Yuuri sighed, but smiled.

“Kanpai.”

Phichit’s mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin as he pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures, about half of them selfies. Alone and with everyone else.

Viktor became more and more extatic along with the realization that Yuuri could hold his liquor very well. So well, in fact, that by the time Celestino was more or less passed out, Yuuri was still tipsy-on-the-verge-of-shitfaced, and Viktor absolutely _loved_ this side of his coach. He knew he shouldn’t take advantage of it, but oh he did, clinging onto a for once very receptive Yuuri who accepted his advances, an arm around Viktor’s shoulders as the younger skater locked his own arms around Yuuri’s waist. He really didn’t mind the praise he was being showered in either while Phichit was busy trying to snap Celestino back into the world of the living while failing to hold his laughter, snapping pictures rapidly.

“You’re the best student _ever_.” Yuuri told Viktor, his alcohol induced breath hot on Viktor’s ear, and Viktor giggled as the praises kept flooding. He was so over the moon with happiness when Yuuri told him Viktor was the most beautiful being to ever set foot in an ice rink that Viktor jumped up in his lap to hug him, extatic as he felt Yuuri’s arms wrap around his waist and a pair of burning lips against his cheek.

“When we go back home,” Viktor said, beaming, “let’s bathe in the onsen, sensei.”

“Hai, let’s do that.” Yuuri murmured-slurred in agreement. “But before that, tomorrow, you will go out there and show them, show _everyone_ , your Eros, and no one will be able to look away.”

“Hai.” Viktor breathed in Yuuri’s ear, heat pooling in his abdomen at the words and his coach’s low, rumbling voice. “I’m skating for you, sensei.”

“Then seduce me, Vitya, and you will have them all wrapped around your finger.” Yuuri breathed back. Viktor shuddered pleasantly, nuzzling Yuuri’s neck.

“You will look only at me, sensei. I will make sure of it.”

 

**

 

Phichit was the first skater on the ice out of the six competitors, and Viktor and Yuuri went to have a look in the monitor while Viktor continued with his warm ups. Phichit skated to Shall we Skate? from his favorite movie, The King and the Skater. Yuuri grinned broadly as the music began playing.

“He wanted to skate to this for so long!” He said fondly. “Even though the skater in the movie is of Thai origin, no Thai skater has used this music in an international competition before. He’s making history right there.”

“That’s cool.” Viktor agreed, eyes sparkling as he watched Phichit perform. “He looks so happy.”

“It’s a dream come true for him.” Yuuri nodded.

 _My dream came true the moment you agreed to be my coach_ , Viktor thought.

And then, rather selfishly: _A_ _nd now, I have a new dream_.

Phichit’s program ended with flourish, albeit he messed up his quad toe loop somewhat. He got a decent score at the kiss and cry, and Yuuri nodded slightly in approval as Celestino heartily patted Phichit’s back.

“Alright, Guang-Hong Ji is next, and then it’s your turn.” He said as Viktor stood up. “Let’s go rinkside for this skate so you’re ready to go.”

“Hai, sensei.”

Les Parfumes des Fleurs flowed out of the speakers in soft violin strokes as the Chinese skater started to move. Yuuri grabbed his dark grey coat and wrapped a red scarf around his neck before they entered the arena. Viktor sat down on the bench their things were at and took off his shoes to tie his skates on while Yuuri took the poodle tissue box Viktor had brought with him from Russia to offer him one. Viktor blew his nose, discarding the tissue in the nearby trashcan before standing up. He took off his jacket and handed it to Yuuri, who folded it neatly to take with him rinkside. Yuuri eyed Viktor closely, from the black ribbon in his hair to the laces of his skates, wearing Yuuri’s old costume like it had been tailored for Viktor. Yuuri nodded in approval.

“Have a drink and get on the ice as soon as Guang-Hong is skating towards the kiss and cry.” Yuuri told him out loud, but his eyes told him more.

_I have complete faith in you, Viktor._

Viktor nodded, smiling brightly, and did as told. He skated up back to Yuuri, now with the railing between them, for some final moments of encouragement. Viktor leaned on the barrier with both hands as Yuuri put down the poodle tissue box and then smiled at Viktor.

“Remember, Vitya,” he told him fondly, the smile turning alluring on his lips, “Seduce me, just like in practice, and no one will be able to look away.”

It took Viktor approximately ten seconds to realize Yuuri’s gloved fingers were brushing against the back of his own hand gently, soothingly, but also…

…endearingly.

With a sudden rush of confidence, Viktor surprised Yuuri by lacing their fingers together and leaning forward to rest their foreheads against each other, his blue eyes piercing into Yuuri’s warm, chocolate pools.

“Don’t ever take your eyes off me, sensei.” He breathed. Yuuri only looked at him, frozen in place for half a second before the twinkle in his eyes was back. With a spark.

Good.

Viktor heard his name being called and he let go off Yuuri’s hand in favor of skating out onto the ice and greet the audience. Had he looked back, he would have seen Yuuri touch his forehead gently, a small smirk on his face in pride.

_I’ll show them Eros._

Viktor took his position in the center of the rink, posing and closing his eyes. He had already decided what to do to make this performance opening different from Onsen on Ice, even different from practice. After all, he wanted to surprise Yuuri.

So when the music started, Viktor tentatively licked his lips while he ran his hands down his body, looking in Yuuri’s direction through half-lidded eyes. He skated backwards a bit.

Strike a pose.

Smirk.

Yuuri winked at him.

_Nailed it!_

Viktor chased Yuuri across the rink, getting in the playboy’s way as he set out to pursue the most beuatiful woman in town himself. Or rather, herself, because in the story Viktor imagined, the most beautiful woman in town was interested in another woman.

The feelings were reciprocated.

He nailed the step sequence and went straight into the combination spin, feeling pumped.

Yuuri was just within reach. He just needed to stretch a little further.

_Seduce me._

Spread eagle into a _perfect_ triple axel.

Viktor made sure his hips were cocked perfectly, hands lifting up like wings behind him, back arched as he went in for his second jump…

_I’m the only one who can satisfy Yuuri._

Landed the quad salchow.

_I’m the only one who knows Yuuri’s love._

Quad toe loop, triple toe loop…

_Don’t dare take your eyes off me._

Combination spin.

_Watch me, Yuuri!_

Viktor ended the program with roaring applauses and standing ovations, his chest heaving in exhaustion and an enormous rush of adrenaline. Instinctively, he turned his head towards his coach. His face broke into the widest grin as he saw Yuuri’s joyous smile, brown eyes sparkling. Then, he waved at Viktor and made his way towards the kiss and cry.

Viktor took his bows gracefully as the rink quickly filled with flowers and a multitude of poodle plushies. He picked up the biggest one he could spot on his way to the kiss and cry, where Yuuri was waiting for him, holding his national jacket and his skate guards. Viktor immediately threw his arms around his coach in a hug, nuzzling his neck.

“How was it?” Viktor asked, excitement in his slightly out-of-breath-voice. “Yuuri-sensei?”

He swore he could feel Yuuri’s smile against his skin.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Viktor was putting the sunshine to shame as he and Yuuri sat down in the kiss and cry to await the scores. Yuuri was smiling, but Viktor was beaming, feeling so happy due to the best praise he had ever gotten from Yuuri in his own mind. He had been watching Viktor the whole time, and that was exactly what Viktor had always wanted him to do. He had wanted Yuuri to see him, to notice him, to watch him and him only. He wanted to be able to keep Yuuri’s gaze and his interest.

“Viktor,” Viktor turned his gaze to Yuuri, who had an arm around his shoulders ever since they embraced moments ago, “Did it feel great?”

Viktor grinned.

“I hope everyone felt great watching me.” He replied. Yuuri’s smile made his insides melt.

Viktor’s score was 106.28.

Viktor gaped.

He beat his own personal best with almost six points!

Instinctively, he flung his arms around Yuuri and kissed his cheek, another wave of adrenaline rushing through him when he realized how well he had done. Yuuri grinned widely, returning the hug.

“Of course everyone would feel great, watching a performance like that.” He told Viktor fondly. “You really are the best student.”

Viktor blushed but couldn’t stop grinning.

He was in first place with almost twenty points separating him from Phichit, who was currently in second.

Viktor intended to stay in that first place.

 

Viktor shedded his jacket and handed it to Yuuri, who took it with a soft smile, placing it over his arm as he looked Viktor up and down. He was dressed in the fuchsia and magenta colored costume thay had had handtailored for him in Kyushu, and Viktor automatically reached up to straighten the golden decorations on his left shoulder. Yuuri nodded in approval as he straightened the indigo sleeves that coveres his arms from the elbow and down.

“You’re beautiful, Viktor.” Yuuri told him, honestly and sincerely, and Viktor found his cheeks tinting slightly pink at the compliment. Yuuri then examined his face more closely, a slight frown appearing on his smooth features. He reached out a hand to cup Viktor’s cheek, tilting his head a little to the side.

“Your lips are chapped.” Yuuri decided, pulling back his hand to retrieve some chapstick from his pocket. He put some on his finger and applied it literally hands-on onto Viktor’s lips. Viktor didn’t move nor say anything, relishing the sensation of Yuuri’s soft fingers against the sensitive skin. All too soon, Yuuri pulled his hand back to have a look, seemingly satisfied as he was smiling again.

“Perfect.” He deemed it. Viktor smiled back, a determined glint in his eyes. He reached out to embrace Yuuri, currently about the same height as him as Viktor was on his skates, holding on tightly as he felt the older skater return the gesture of affection, his arms securely around Viktor’s waist.

“You’re the best coach I could ever ask for.” Viktor breathed into his ear. “Please watch me.”

He could almost feel the breath hitch in Yuuri’s throat for a split second, before he slowly exhaled. Viktor breathed out an internal sigh of relief.

“I could never look away.”

The response sent a pleasant shudder down Viktor’s spine and he found himself smiling into Yuuri’s scarf, inhaling his scent that somehow always managed to calm him down.

“Thank you, sensei.”

Georgi finished his routine and Yuuri took Viktor’s skateguards as the Russian stepped onto the ice and came to stand in front of Yuuri on the other side of the barrier as per habit. Yuuri offered him a last-minute tissue, which Viktor gratefully took to blow his nose. When he handed it back, his hand lingered on Yuuri’s as their eyes locked once again. Viktor took a deep breath.

“I will show my love, sensei.” He said, determined. “My theme is love, and I’m going to show it through the program we made together.”

Yuuri’s smile made his heart flutter madly in his chest.

“Show them.” He replied, nodding. “And show me.”

“Hai!”

“ _And our last skater is up. Please welcome, for Russia, Viktor Nikiforov!_ ”

Viktor greeted the audience as the announcer introduced him and skated to the center of the ice, getting into position. He stood perfectly still, eyes downcast, until the first soft notes of Stammi Vicino gently floated through the speakers. Viktor raised his head towards the ceiling, then his hand, turned and took the first, gentle glides along the ice. Around, reach out, down on one knee…

_Please, watch me._

He stretched his arms out lovingly, longingly as he glided along the white surface, building up momentum for his first jump.

A quad salchow.

_Landed it!_

Viktor felt his heart speed up, more in anticipation than anything else. He could almost feel Yuuri’s cinnamon eyes on him, and it thrilled him to no end.

_I will make sure you can’t look away._

Next up was the quad lutz. He bent down and…

Slight touchdown, but he managed to continue the program without delay. There were most certainly enough rotations. The triple axel went just like it should and Viktor continued straight into the first combination spin, stretching out his body like Yuuri had taught him.

Yuuri was a master when it came to step sequences, but his spins were just as breathtaking. Not to mention…

_I wonder how he would react if I changed the last combination jump into a quad flip instead?_

Yuuri’s signature jump. He could try. It was a risky stunt, and he didn’t know if he had the stamina to get it right, but he wanted to try.

He reached out towards his coach, pleading him to see him. To hear him.

Flying sit spin.

Viktor reached up towards the sky in a prayer unanswered, casting down his gaze and turning around, making a yearning pause before skating forward again, hand stretched out in front of him. The spread eagle on spot was technically the same Yuuri had opted to use in his Eros-program, but presentationally it was completely different. In Eros, it was alluring, seducing. In Stammi Vicino, it was filled with longing desparation.

_Going around in circles._

Another quad salchow. Viktor landed his salchows like the Russian he was, practically having the jump in his blood by nationality. He spread his arms like wings behind him, graceful and elegant, gaining momentum again for his combination jump…

Quad toe loop, triple toe loop.

_Perfect!_

Spurred on by the success, Viktor continued into a step sequence as the tenor singer reached the highlight of the song.

“ _Stammi vicino, non te me andare…_ ”

Viktor skated the intricate step sequence with all the emotion he could pour into it, imagining Yuuri to be there, skating next to him, showing him the masterful footwork that entranced every last person in the audience.

_Stay close to me, and never let go._

Viktor wanted to show Yuuri how much he had learned from him.

_Please._

Triple lutz…

_Nailed it!_

Still, that jump could have gone a little better, Viktor realized as he gained momentum again. He had almost overrotated but somehow managed to avoid it, albeit his leg wobbled just slightly.

Triple flip.

_Better._

Encouraged once again, Viktor boldly skated towards where Yuuri was standing, looking directly at his coach as he reached out for him, pushing away all the obstacles between them and inviting him to join him, skating backwards towards the center of the ice again, his icy orbs locked onto pools of melted chocolate that looked directly at him and nowhere else. His heart was racing and his body exhausted, but those eyes gave him a new rush of adrenaline he desperately needed if he was going to pull off his last stunt.

He skated backwards, gaining momentum…

He could hear the audience gasp and shriek in surprise as the quad toe loop never came when he flew up into a quad flip instead. He had to imagine Yuuri’s surprise as he couldn’t see him.

Viktor didn’t land the flip, though, falling down, but he got up immediately and skated to the center of the rink, entering the last combination spin.

He had made a few mistakes and he didn’t know if his score would be enough to beat Phichit’s, who had skated a flawless free skate, but he was certain he had made it to the podium.

Hopefully, Yuuri wouldn’t be angry with him for pulling that last stunt.

Elegantly, Viktor rose from the ground upwards, reaching his arms above his head, before stopping the spin, reaching out with his hand one last time before falling down on one knee with both arms stretched into the air in a prayer, head tilted backwards, back straight.

The cheers were thundorous, but Viktor couldn’t even hear them as he stood up to take his bows.

_Is he happy? Is he mad?_

Viktor was facing the judges, unable to see Yuuri who was at the rinkside behind him.

_Which is it?!_

As soon as he could, Viktor turned around to have a look. Yuuri wasn’t by the barrier where Viktor last saw him. Instinctively he gazed along the side of the rink towards the kiss and cry, and his breath hitched. Yuuri was running towards the edge of the rink, towards the kiss and cry.

Running to meet Viktor.

He had never skated so fast in his entire life, sprinting towards the entrance as Yuuri reached it, panting, his cheeks flushed pink. Viktor beamed at him, feeling a bubbling happiness spread in his chest.

“Yuuri!” He called out, gliding towards him, arms already stretched out for a hug. “I did great, right?”

Yuuri’s warm, brown eyes met Viktor’s azure blue.

And then everything happened so fast Viktor barely had time to register it, yet he noticed every tiny detail.

Yuuri jumped forward, his arms enveloping Viktor into his embrace, one hand tight around his waist and the other cradling his head. Viktor’s eyes widened and he barely managed to lock his arms around Yuuri’s neck, because soft lips pressed against his briefly, barely for a second or two.

Yuuri was kissing him.

_Yuuri kissed him!_

Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before they crashed onto the ice, Yuuri protecting Viktor from the fall in exactly the right way to keep him from harm and injury. He steadied himself on his arms to hover above Viktor with the fondest expression Viktor had ever seen in his life, brown eyes sparkling, cheeks a lovely shade of pink, and a smile so warm it could melt the ice beneath them.

“That was the only thing I could think of,” Yuuri told him sincerely, “to surprise you more than you surprised me.”

Viktor let out a gasping laugh, blue eyes shining in joy as he looked up at his coach adoringly.

“Well,” he smiled from ear to ear, “it worked.”

 

**

 

“Yuuuriiii~”

“Viktor.” Yuuri replied easily, as if Viktor wasn’t clinging around his neck with his arms and his legs wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, peppering him with kisses. And Yuuri wasn’t doing _anything_. Absolutely nothing at all besides supporting Viktor’s drunken form with one arm around his waist. It was unfair that after a night of partying with the other competitors, Yuuri still seemed to hold his liqour unfairly well while the others, including Viktor, turned from tipsy to full-on drunk in hours.

Viktor puffed up his cheeks in annoyance and did the only thing he could think of to grab Yuuri’s attention: he bit down on the soft skin between his neck and his shoulder.

The action elicited a hiss from Yuuri, then a sigh, and suddenly, Viktor found himself neatly trapped between a wall and his coach. Yuuri eyed him closely, sharply, and Viktor, alcohol induced and fearless, put on his innocent face, pouting slightly and very purposefully wiggled a bit in hope of any kind of reaction at all.

Yuuri, however, continued to be incredibly _unfair_.

“Viktor…” there was a warning undertone in his voice, “…no.”

Pout. Frown.

Annoyed-child-mode activated.

“But Yuuriiii…!”

His coach effectively silenced Viktor with a firm peck on the lips.

“I…” _kiss_ “…said…” _kiss_ “…no…” _kiss_ “…Vitya.” Another kiss. When Yuuri pulled away, Viktor’s childich demeanor was gone and replaced by a more or less dumbfounded look.

“Why not?” he finally asked instead. Yuuri’s soft smile melted his insides and he just couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with his coach anymore.

“Because, _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri murmured, leaning in to murmur closer to Viktor’s ear, “we only shared our first kiss less than twelve hours ago. There’s no need to rush. Besides…” Viktor shivered as Yuuri’s thumb came to rest on his lower lip, trailing along it teasingly, “…I would much rather be sober. Wouldn’t you?”

 _Oh_.

“D-da.”

Yuuri hummed, pleased, rewarding Viktor with another kiss.

“Good.” He concluded, steadying Viktor with both arms this time as he walked over to the hotel bed they shared to drop him on top of the sheets quite unceremoniously. Viktor countered by taking hold of Yuuri’s tie and pulling him down with him into a messy heap. He giggled as Yuuri gave up a surprised yelp, which cost him his dignity as Yuuri immediately started tickling him mercilessly. Eventually, that just resulted in them reducing to a laughing mess on the bed.

“I had fun tonight.” Yuuri admitted, absentmindedly lacing his fingers with Viktor’s as they lay side by side. “I hope you did, too.”

“Hai, Yuuri-sensei.” Viktor confirmed, starting to feel somewhat drowsy through his happiness. “I especially enjoyed the show~” Yuuri chuckled.

“Don’t expect to see that in a while again.”

“Why?” Viktor looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes shimmering in awe. “You were so _good_ , Yuuri-sensei. So much _eros_. Where did you learn to pole dance?”

“I took classes in Detroit to build up core strength.” He replied.

“Yuuri-sensei is so cool!” Viktor half mused, half whined, peppering Yuuri’s neck and cheek with kisses. “So pole dance, ballet, contemporary…?”

“Ballroom, tango, flamenco, salsa, break dance…”

“You can break dance?” Viktor’s eyes widened in astonishment again. Yuuri chuckled. “Yuuri-sensei is _still_ full of surprises.”

“Aren’t you sweet.” Yuuri murmured into Viktor’s hair, planting a kiss on his temple and then nudging him gently. “Come on, let’s brush our teeth and snuggle up under the blankets instead, before we fall asleep on top of them.”

“Hai.” Viktor agreed. He was really beginning to doze off, and the only thing keeping him from falling asleep was Yuuri’s gentle coaxing.

It really had been a fun night. They had danced it away, Phichit and Yuuri leading the way and Chris and Viktor joining them, just shaking off to the music before Chris somehow had managed to lure Yuuri over to a couple of poles to a dance-off. Yuuri had agreed and so they had both stripped down to their underwear and given a show that certainly pleased the crowd, and _definitely_ did funny things in Viktor’s nether regions as he watched his coach go full on Eros on the pole. Naturally, as soon as Yuuri was down and dressed, Viktor had demanded a dance, and Yuuri had easily led him into a fiery tango, even though the club music didn’t really support that.

No matter.

Yuuri created music with his body.

What was around them hadn’t mattered much.

Viktor was high on alcohol, euphoria and arousal when they had returned to the hotel, and he had pounced Yuuri in the elevator, only to be more or less ignored until they reached their hotel room. Luckily, Yuuri had burned off a lot of alcohol through the dancing and was in a much better headspace, stopping Viktor before he did something they probably wouldn’t regret, per say, but still would because it just wouldn’t have been the time for that.

Viktor fell asleep in Yuuri’s arms, his head resting by the crook of his coach’s neck, when the sun first rays of the sun already turned the sky a lovely shade of golden orange by the horizon.

Silver medal or not, Cup of China had been a success.

Viktor couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He dreamt of their first kiss the whole morning.

 

**

 

“Mr. Nikiforov, why did you decide to ask Mr. Katsuki to be your coach?”

“That quad flip at the Cup of China was an unexpected move, will you be using it to your advantage here in Moscow?”

“Has the quad flip officially been added to your roster?”

Viktor breezed through the questions with a bright smile on his lips, using his favorite tactic of innocent charm to more or less make the reporters forget what they had originally asked and only giving vague answers. Yuuri did more or less the same, smoothly talking his way through the onslaught of questions.

“Mr. Katsuki, why did you decide to take on Mr. Nikiforov as a student?”

“He has a lot of potential and he had enough arguments to convince me I could be a good coach for him. He’s an exceptionally good student, too.” Yuuri praised easily.

“And how do you think he will fare on his hometurf?”

“Oh, he will shine like the bright star he is, no doubt.”

“If Mr. Nikiforov has so much potential, wouldn’t you like to compete against him yourself?”

Viktor’s gaze immediately snapped over to his coach, who had a small smile on his face that said absolutely nothing about anything. Yuuri was so good at making distracting, unreadable expressions Viktor almost forgot the question himself.

Suddenly, Yuuri’s gaze flew up and a bright smile spread on his face.

“There you are, Yuri!” He said, walking right through the reporters to greet Yuri Plisetsky, whose presence Viktor had missed completely. If Yuuri’s intention was to distract the reporters from himself and Viktor, it worked perfectly. Yurio looked stunned for a moment that Yuuri had come up to him and greeted him warmly, and then he looked even more amazed when Yuuri praised his execution of the choreography Yuuri made for him during Skate Canada, where he had placed second. Viktor’s turn to be amazed came when Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Ice Tiger (as he called himself in opposition to his fan nickname the Russian Fairy), willingly said that he was grateful for the choreography Yuuri had made for him. It was at this point that Yuuri caught Viktor’s gaze and nodded slightly.

 _Go_.

Viktor nodded back in acknowledgement and fled the scene before the reporters would notice his absence. He slipped away to go and grab his room key from the lobby and then headed for the elevators, but was stopped halfway by Sara Crispino, who wanted to exchange pleasantries with him, much to her brother Michele’s disapproval. Luckily, they soon got distracted by Emil Nekola and then the arrival of Seung-Gil Lee, so Viktor took the opportunity to slink into an empty elevator.

Except a foot stopped the doors from closing and a very grumpy Yuri Plisetsky stepped inside, glaring at Viktor in a ‘greeting’.

“What are you sneaking around for?” He grunted. Viktor decided to greet him with a smile instead.

“Hi, Yurio!” He said, a cheerfulness the complete opposite of the grumpy cat next to him. “Nice to see you, too.”

Yurio huffed.

“I’m going to kick your ass and show Yuuri Katsuki that I’m more worthy to be his student than you.” He sneered. “I don’t get what he sees in you, anyway. Why would he be interested in paying attention to _you?_ ”

“Maybe you should ask him.” Viktor said, unfazed. He had been prepared for as much.

“You’re not worth his time, you selfish bastard.” Yurio muttered.

“Wouldn’t he be the judge of that?”

The grumpy cat hissed, but didn’t reply further.

Yurio literally kicked Viktor out of the elevator into the corridor, throwing another ‘bastard!’ after him. Viktor stumbled to his feet, sighed, and headed towards his and Yuuri’s room.

Yes, Viktor was selfish. He had always been selfish. But Yuuri was just different than anyone else in so many ways that even if Viktor wanted to devour him every chance he got, he would stop if Yuuri told him to be patient. If Yuuri told him to wait, then he would wait. If Yuuri told him to skate his routine one last (umpteenth) time, then he would.

So yes, Viktor was selfish, but with Katsuki Yuuri, he couldn’t be selfish. He couldn’t be selfish when Yuuri was selfless. He would beg on his knees for Yuuri. Not that he hadn’t done that about a million times already. He smiled as he reminisced their short time in Japan before they had headed for Russia…

Viktor knew by now that Yuuri’s legendary stamina wasn’t only reserved to the ice, and he was quite satisfied about the fact that he was the only one who got to experience it.

As he stepped inside the hotel room he shared with his coach, Viktor slumped down on the bed, heaving a sigh as a smile crept to his lips. Why should he care what anyone else thought?

He was the one Yuuri took to bed at the end of the day after all…

 

**

 

Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest as Viktor skated out onto the ice, greeting the audience that was already cheering for him loudly. Apparently, his fans hadn’t been too fazed by the fact that Viktor had left the country to train in Japan. He was still wearing the Russian national jacket, after all.

Looking back, Yuuri was amazed at how far Viktor had come during the past seven months. When he came to Hasetsu, he was already considered the top skater in Russia, along with Yuri Plisetsky and Mila Babicheva, but where he had brilliant technique and a broad imagination, he was all too eager and rash in his decisions, which just wasn’t enough to beat skaters like Yuuri and Phichit, and even his best friend Chris.

That was then.

Now, though, Viktor had easily beat Chris to silver, and Yuuri would be damned if Viktor didn’t manage to beat at least one of his own world records with the programs he had put together for him. Yuuri had purposedly made both Eros and Stammi Vicino high-difficulty-programs, in fact so difficult that if he skated them himself, he was sure he would break both of his previous records. The same went for the Agape-performance he had made for Yurio.

The young Russians had all the means necessary for them to surpass him in their hands, if they put some effort into it.

For the first time in years, Yuuri felt thrilled. He couldn’t wait for them to beat his records. He couldn’t wait to be happy for them and show them how proud he was…

_“If Mr. Nikiforov has so much potential, wouldn’t you like to compete against him yourself?”_

Yuuri was extremely grateful Yurio had walked past just then to distract the reporters. What would he have told them? That he was happy enough coaching Viktor and would continue on doing so in the future? That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t really the whole truth either. Yuuri wanted to continue to coach Viktor, yes. But to compete against him now that Viktor finally showed all the potential that had been suppressed for so long…

…it was tempting.

Very, _very_ tempting.

Yuuri couldn’t take his eyes off the young, silver-haired Russian that was currently rolling his hands down his body before skating back a little, turning sharply towards his coach with an alluring smirk on his lips.

Viktor blew a kiss directly at him. Yuuri grinned, catching it playfully, making a pleased look appear on his student’s face.

_I’m watching you._

As if Yuuri didn’t have a minor heart attack every single time Viktor skated Eros in full Eros-mode, his prodigy proceeded to skate the most seductive step-sequence in the history of Russian figure skating. He arched his back, twirled his hands in alluring flamenco-movements, cocked his hips and flipped his long ponytail like a whip, demanding attention. Yuuri felt a smug smile tug on his lips.

While the movements screamed “Yuuri Katsuki” all over them, Viktor was still able to push past that and seduce the audience with his own charms. Or, more accurately, seduce Yuuri. Yuuri was the only one who knew Viktor’s real Eros, and Viktor was the only one who knew Yuuri’s. People could guess, but they would never actually know. That was only between the two of them.

Their dirty little secret.

Because that was exactly what it was.

Yuuri almost laughed in glee, hiding a blush when Viktor daringly locked eyes with him for a brief moment to lick his lips and wink while he went into a spread eagle, arching his back sharply and cocking his hips while running his hands down his upper body. Eros-Viktor was downright dangerous, and Yuuri might have loved it a little bit more than he should. He really couldn’t help himself. He had created this monster, after all. Or, rather, he had unleashed a beast that was already inside Viktor, set it free and allowed it to grow.

 

_“Yuuriii~”_

_Yuuri lifted his gaze from the screen of his phone towards the lilting voice sporting an unusually heavy Russian accent. He felt his cheeks heat up, a smirk creeping to his lips regardless._

_“Vitya…” he sighed, placing his phone down._

_Viktor was smirking, too, and he looked downright smug, leaning against the doorframe of Yuuri’s room dressed only in his yukata that was far too loosely tied on him, showing off a toned, well-defined chest and porcelain skin. One shoulder was also exposed, along with his slender neck._

_His hair was still tied up in a loose ponytail._

_Viktor promptly closed the door behind him and sauntered over to Yuuri with swaying hips, climbing onto the bed to straddle him with an innocent-but-absolutely-not smile on his face._

_“Yuuri,” he said again, wrapping Yuuri’s name in sinful satin as he spoke, “You promised to reward me for doing well at the Cup of China.”_

_Yuuri smirked, placing a thoughtful finger on his chin as he hummed._

_“I did, didn’t I?” He admitted. Viktor leaned in close, his lips hovering right above Yuuri’s as he spoke:_

_“Then, what are you offering, sensei?”_

_This boy was going to be the death of Yuuri Katsuki._

_He hummed again, as if thinking about it, but really mostly because he knew the effect his humming had on Viktor. Expecially when, with their faces so close together, the younger man could certainly feel the vibrations on his lips._

_“It’s your reward, Vitya.” He breathed, not closing the gap between them, building up the tension that he knew drove Viktor insane. “What do you… want?”_

_Viktor’s breath hitched. Then, he looked Yuuri straight in the eye, a fire burning within his aquamarine gems, filled with determination._

_Filled with Eros._

_“You.” Viktor replied, dead certain and unwavering. “I want you, Yuuri.”_

_Oh, kami._

_Yuuri hummed again. Even though he was a little surprised, he was also pleased. Very pleased._

_“Well, then,” he told Viktor, tilting his own head just a little more upwards to more or less smirk against Viktor’s lips, “Have me, Vitya.”_

 

Yuuri had later learned that it had been Viktor’s first time. He felt strangely pleased with that, knowing Viktor was all his, just like he was all Viktor’s.

The switch in the dynamics (but not really) in their relationship had seemingly done miracles for Viktor’s Eros-performance, and Yuuri almost found himself considering if he should have given in to Viktor’s advances sooner. But no, it was probably better it had happened this way. Like this, Viktor was able to surprise both his coach (and his lover) and the audience with his newfound Eros even more than before.

He even made the jumps look alluring, and that was a feat in itself.

Yuuri knew exactly what Viktor was thinking about when he threw himself into the flying sit spin, leg stretched straight in front of him…

 

_“I’m not made of porcelain!” Viktor hissed, glaring at Yuuri who was hovering above him, buried to the hilt inside him. Yuuri cocked an eyebrow, smiling smugly._

_“You sure look like you are.” He teased, trailing a hand along Viktor’s snow white leg while staying perfectly still, not moving. Viktor almost scowled in frustration, wiggling his hips in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from him._

_“Yuuriii~” he whined angrily. Yuuri tutted at him._

_“You’re impatient.” He scolded. “Ask nicely.”_

_Puppy-dog-eyes of brightest blue looked pleadingly up at Yuuri._

_“Please, Yuuri-sensei,” Viktor lilted softly, “Harder.”_

 

Yes, Yuuri admitted he had unleashed a beast.

A beast that was now finishing off his routine with arms wound around a lover invisible to the audience, but very much visible to the both of them. Yuuri found himself smiling smugly, yet genuinely, and when Viktor turned to look for his approval, Yuuri made sure the smile was well visible. His student grinned back widely, waving at him and the audience as he picked up a poodle plushie and a bouquet of blue roses along the way to the exit of the rink.

It was only when Viktor was about to step off the ice that Yuuri noticed the reason for his student’s sudden stop and wide eyes. Yuri Plisetsky was standing right beside Yuuri, right in front of Viktor, looking intensly at his former rinkmate with the most composed-yet-terrifying calm Yuuri had ever seen on his face, standing as tall as he could, back straight and utterly confident.

“Out of my way, bastard.” He told Viktor without slipping into his usual angry-cat-mode. Viktor blinked, stepping off the ice and to the side without a word, letting Yurio pass.

“Agape.” Yuuri breathed, realization hitting him as hard as the smile spreading on his face in astonishment. Viktor gaped as he understood what his coach was saying, following Yurio with his gaze.

“Yurio’s real Agape.” Viktor said, awestruck as he watched his junior skate over to his former coach and said coach’s wife. He looked at his coach who was grinning just as broadly as he was.

“Awesome!” They exclaimed in unison, as if they had been practicing it.

That was another thing Yuuri found so captivating about Viktor: he always seemed to be in complete sync with Yuuri, yet he never failed to surprise him. Yuuri made sure he returned the favor as much as possible, and so far, it seemed to work well.

“Come on,” Yuuri placed an arm around Viktor’s slim shoulders, smiling, “Let’s go have a look at your score.”

“Hai!” Viktor replied, invigorated by the excellent show he had just given the audience, handing Yuuri the rose bouquet with a wide grin on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. Yuuri accepted the flowers with a small blush that made his student giggle and blush himself as they made their way over to the kiss and cry. They sat down, holding hands as they waited for Viktor’s score…

Yuuri gasped in delight and Viktor’s jaw dropped, a heart shaped smile taking form on his face.

109.82.

_Another personal best for Viktor!_

Well, how could Yuuri possibly surprise Viktor more than his student had already been able to surprise him this time?

So Yuuri being Katsuki Yuuri, he did the first and boldest thing that came to mind. He kneeled on the floor and took Viktor’s foot gently in his hands, lifting his slim leg up to kiss the leather on his skate. In the corner of his half-lidded gaze, he saw Viktor blush adorably, looking incredulously happy, over the moon by the enormous praise Yuuri was now giving him wordlessly.

Literally brought to his knees.

 

**

 

It was only the warm-up before the free skate and Viktor’s whole body ached along with his mind and heart for the one person he absolutely needed right at that moment. Unfortunately, that person was many, many miles away across the ocean in Japan.

Viktor had never felt more alone in his entire life.

Nevertheless, he performed his warm-ups on autopilot, earbuds plugged in and the soft notes of Stammi Vicino blooming in his head. He held back a sob.

_“I’ll be watching you. No matter the distance, I will always watch you.”_

Yuuri’s voice echoed in his head, giving Viktor the slightest amount of comfort as he stretched his legs into a split, bending his upper body forward to take hold of his right foot. Yuuri would be watching him. Yuuri would always watch him, whether he was physically present or not.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted Yakov and Lilia give Yurio some kind of peptalk, but Yurio didn’t appear to be listening. His eyes were downcast as he proceeded with his own warm-ups, nodding absentmindedly as Lilia told him something. For a split second, Viktor’s eyes met Yurio’s bright green orbs, and for that split second they shared a moment of understanding.

“Davai.” Viktor told Yurio as it was the teens turn to get on the ice. Yurio nodded, not looking at Viktor.

“Davai.”

That was enough to raise his spirits only slightly, but possibly not enough.

Viktor watched rinkside as Yurio performed an astounding free skate to Allegro Apassionato in b-minor. He really was like a prima ballerina on the ice, his movements fluid yet sharp and precise, demanding attention. To Viktor, the message was quite clear:

_Are you watching me too, Yuuri?_

Despite the slight pang of jealousy that automatically came with the thought, Viktor couldn’t help but admire Yurio’s determination and his passion on the ice. He pushed himself beyond his limits, ending his program in flawless flourish, his chest heaving in aching gasps for air as he sunk to his knees, completely spent. Viktor applauded him, but couldn’t help but hear Yuuri’s scolding voice in his head.

_You’re too greedy!_

He had told Yurio that when he coached the both of them, had told the boy his greed was too obvious in his routine and that he needed to tone it down. Apparently, Yurio’s free skate played to that strength rather than going against it completely, like Agape did. While that was a smart move on Lilia’s part, Viktor had to once again acknowledge his coach for being a genius.

How was Yurio supposed to grow as a skater and a person if he wasn’t thrown out of his comfort zone once in a while?

Yurio was a strong contender at the ripe age of fifteen, and Viktor had to acknowledge that. He would have been a fool not to.

And now, it was his turn to take the ice.

Yakov took his Russian national jacket as Viktor handed it over along with his skate guards. For a moment, Viktor swore he saw sympathy flicker in his old coach’s eyes, but that might have been his imagination.

“He’s watching you, Vitya.” Yakov told him. “He texted me to make sure you knew that.”

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. Yuuri had texted Yakov… and Yakov had actually relayed the message?

But he couldn’t speak, so he merely nodded, but mustered up a sad smile before he skated out on the ice. Viktor felt a little sick and tears were stinging in the back of his eyes. He was sure he was going to tear up.

_Focus, Vitya._

He took a deep breath.

Yuuri was watching him after all.

 

“What is he doing?” Yurio hissed under his breath, watching Viktor flub a quad salchow (it turned into a triple) of all things he could have flubbed on. Viktor’s performance wasn’t bad, it wasn’t. In fact, he poured his longing into it so much that his presentational score would probably be borderline unbeatable. The technical parts however…

“Hey, bastard, hang in there!” Yurio called out, hoping some part of Viktor’s next to non-existent brain would register it as he flubbed the quad flip as well. Viktor was better than this, technical skills were his forte!

And yet, without Yuuri rinkside, everything seemed to just go downhill.

Much to Yurio’s inexplicable relief, Viktor didn’t flub anything after the quad flip, and ended his performance with a beautiful combination spin. He stood in the middle of the rink, chest heaving and a hand stretched out, waiting for someone to reach out to him, but the one person that he wanted to reach out to him wasn’t there, and Yurio knew this.

Then his heart did a somersault in his chest and a knot tightened in his stomach in surprise and discomfort.

Viktor was crying.

Viktor Nikiforov was crying as he somehow managed to skate over to the kiss and cry and get off the ice. His cheeks glistened with sweat and tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.

Yurio had never, ever seen Viktor cry before in his life. Viktor never cried in public, ever.

He shifted a little as Yakov sat down next to Viktor, placing an arm around his shoulders, thankfully, because said shoulders had started shaking slightly. Yurio knew Yuuri had been watching Viktor, too, but he wasn’t there now when Viktor needed him to give him a hug, a scolding, some praise and a kiss.

After some internal debate, Yurio decided he would seek out his grandpa after the award ceremony, where it now seemed that at least he and Viktor would be standing on the podium, in that order. Maybe grandpa still had some of that delicious katsudon pirozhki left…

Yuuri would appreciate Yurio’s efforts of trying to cheer Viktor up, wouldn’t he?

And maybe, just maybe, Viktor could save a pirozhki for Yuuri, too.

 

Viktor left the skating rink with a bronze medal around his neck, going back to the hotel to shower and pack his things before heading to the airport. If there was an earlier flight to Japan than the one he had booked, he would gladly pay for it. He doubted there was.

He almost made it to Sheremetyevo when he was knocked to the ground by a foot hitting him in the side. Viktor landed in the snow with a surprised yelp and looked up. Yuri Plisetsky was glaring down at him, but something in his expression was different from his usual scowl.

“Oi, bastard,” he said, but his normally harsh voice had a softer edge than usual, “you have no right to feel that down, you hear me? You’ve got the excuse that Katsuki wasn’t rinkside, but I was in top condition and skated a new personal best and _still_ lost to JJ.” Viktor blinked. Yurio rolled his eyes and tossed a brown, warm paper bag in Viktor’s lap. He blinked again. “Both your and Katsuki’s birthdays are coming up, aren’t they?”

Viktor was still trying to figure out why Yurio was doing all this, for _him_ of all people, but he curiously opened the bag under the teenager’s watchful gaze and peered inside.

_Huh?_

“Pirozhki?” It was half a question.

“Eat.” Yurio muttered, not looking at him. Viktor blinked again.

“Now?”

“ _Eat!_ ” Yurio repeated, this time turning his head to look him directly in the eye. Viktor complied, standing up and brushing snow off his coat before taking a bite of one of the pirozhkis inside the bag. He blinked yet again, slightly confused. It was definitely pirozhki, but there was something else, something familiar, yet nothing he had ever tasted in a pirozhki before. Rice, egg, pork…

Viktor’s eyes widened. A smug smile rose on Yurio’s lips.

“Katsudon!” Viktor exclaimed, awestruck.

“Yeah!” Yurio _grinned_ , looking mighty proud, a smile so pure on his face Viktor wanted to etch it into his memory forever. He had never, ever seen it before, and he wasn’t sure he would ever have the privilege of witnessing it again. “My grandpa made them himself! Aren’t they _awesome?_ ”

“Da!” Viktor smiled, eyes sparkling as he took another bite. “ _Vkusno!_ ”

He handed one to Yurio, who accepted it without complaint. They ate while walking towards the airport, Yurio following him all the way to the door before stopping. Viktor stopped too. Would a ‘thank you’ be too much for the teen? Yurio shuffled a little in place.

“Save one for Yuuri-sensei, will you?” He muttered, looking down on the ground. Viktor was unable to hold back a smile.

“Promise.” He said, meaning it. “Tell your grandpa he’s a genius.”

That brought a small smile to Yurio’s face. He nodded.

“I’ll do that.” He confirmed. “See you in Barcelona, bastard.”

Viktor grinned.

“You too, kitten.”

Yurio let out a noise somewhere between a huff and a hiss. It was adorable.

“I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Yurio lifted his gaze properly to look at Viktor, green meeting blue as they regarded each other in silence for a while. Viktor took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” His voice was filled with only raw sincerety, so genuine that Yurio’s eyes only widened in surprise, his mouth slightly open in shock. Not over the words, but over the pure honesty. He gulped almost audibly, then shrugged.

“You too.” The answer was barely audible, but Viktor heard it. He was stunned, but decided to nod anyway. He would have liked to ask exactly what Yurio was thanking him for, since he had absolutely no clue, but knew better than to push it. A nod had apparently been the right answer, because Yurio looked ever so slightly relieved when he nodded back.

“Get going.” Yurio then said, motioning towards the door. “Tell him I said hi or something.”

Viktor smiled, just as genuinely as he had thanked the teenager.

“I’ll tell him that.” He promised. “Send my regards to your grandpa.”

“Yeah.” Yurio muttered. “See ya.”

Then he turned and left, walking back towards the parking lot, most likely to meet up with his granpa. Viktor headed into the airport, placing the remaining pirozhki in his bag.

He couldn’t wait to get to Japan.

 

Viktor impatiently got off the airplane and headed down the escalators, trying to get past as many people as possible. He had gotten a message from Yuuri right before his flight left from Moscow that Aki-chan was all right, and that he would be at the airport in Fukuoka to meet him. Hence, Viktor was looking for one person, and one person only.

He spotted the two poodles first, Yurochka and Aki-chan standing on their hind legs on the other side of the glass, tails wagging excitedly.

Then he spotted Yuuri and his heart ached.

Viktor had never seen his coach so disheveled, black hair mussed and messy, dark circles under his eyes looking like he hadn’t slept since the moment he left Moscow. He probably hadn’t.

Brown eyes met blue and Yuuri was on his feet in a second.

They ran in sync, gazes locked the entire way, not once straying.

Viktor would later notice he had forgotten all about his luggage, but it didn’t matter. He would get it eventually. All that mattered at the moment was Yuuri’s welcoming embrace and just Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri. Viktor buried his face into his coach’s navy blue coat, arms tight and locked around his neck, not caring that they were probably blocking the entrance and that there probably were people staring and taking pictures. None of that was even remotely important.

No words were needed.

Viktor heard them anyway.

_Welcome home._

 

**

 

“Like I guessed; only a Russian would be crazy enough to take a bath in the middle of the winter.”

Viktor grinned up at his best friend, who was standing by the outdoor pool at their hotel in Barcelona, dressed in speedo-swimwear and a pair of slippers, a towel over his shoulder, his phone, a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hands.

“What took you so long?” Viktor asked teasingly. They hadn’t planned on meeting up, but they had a habit of finding one another during competitions anyway, so they didn’t really need to.

“Hello to you too, Viktor darling.” Chris grinned back, winking at him. “And here I was hoping to go skinny dipping.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” Viktor shrugged as he swam over to the ladder. “I’ll even take pictures for you.”

“How generous of you.”

So that’s what Viktor proceeded to do, laughing at Chris’ silly poses while capturing all of them on camera, and when the poor pool boy walked by, they handed their phones over to him to take a few pictures of them posing together, legs stretched up with pointed toes, sunglasses on like it was a bright summer day and not a cold December evening. They scrolled through the pictures together and uploaded a couple on their instagrams for good measure, just to see who would get more likes.

“Where did you leave your master, by the way?”

Viktor swatted Chris’ arm with his slipper while his friend chuckled. Chris had made a habit of calling Yuuri Viktor’s ‘master’, and the statement was always followed by a playful shove.

“He was jet-lagged and wanted to take a nap.” Viktor informed him. “So I figured I’d take a dip while he did, since he probably wouldn’t have wanted to join anyway. He would probably have caught a cold, too.” Chris hummed in response.

“It feels a bit odd, though, doesn’t it?” He pondered. “A Grand Prix Final without Yuuri Katsuki in the line-up. It’s really, really weird.”

“Yeah.” Viktor agreed. “It is.”

“Oh, well, that amps up my chances of standing on the middle podium.” Chris grinned.

Viktor shoved him into the pool, Chris’ laughter never subsiding.

 

They headed up to Viktor and Yuuri’s hotel room to find Viktor’s coach looking utterly gorgeous and adorable with messy bed hair, wearing only a pair of loose sweatpants, blue-rimmed glasses on his nose. He stretched and yawned when they entered.

“Oh, hello, you two.” He said, standing up and heading over to the small counter. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Chris grinned appreciatively.

“Yuuriii, warm me up!” Viktor demanded. It had been freezing outside, after all. He lunged at his coach but Yuuri was quicker, grabbing the covers he had been sleeping under and wrapping the warmth around Viktor before placing him down on the bed.

“Don’t you dare get sick.” He warned him, and even though his tone was scolding it was laced with concern. “I’ll make coffee and run you a bath. Stay put.”

Viktor pouted but obeyed, Chris’ shoulders shaking with laughter.

Viktor didn’t get sick.

But he did get a warm bath. And Yuuri washing his hair.

Viktor swore he was purring by the time he fell asleep.

 

**

 

Viktor looked around the Christmas fair and the shops, not exactly certain what he was looking for, only that whatever it was, it would have to convey his thankfulness to Yuuri in every way possible. He wanted to thank his coach, sure, but there were many other things Viktor had Yuuri to be grateful for. Like waking up next to him in the morning and seek comfort in his embrace when the need came over him, or when he walked Yurochka in the morning and when he, like now, would merely stay silent yet attentive, letting Viktor work on instinct like he always did. Yuuri’s hand was a comforting weight in Viktor’s own, and the silent approval told Viktor that Yuuri knew he was looking for something, even though Viktor wasn’t sure what it was yet.

That was, until he came to a halt and instantly knew what he wanted.

Well, what he _actually_ wanted was all too obvious, but he needed to express it. To himself, to Yuuri, and preferably, to the world as well.

Viktor let go off Yuuri’s hand and ran into the jewellery shop without a second thought. The bell tingling behind him indicated that Yuuri had followed him, but that didn’t matter. Viktor went straight up to the counter, where a smiling young woman asked if she could help him in any way.

“Yes, please.” Viktor replied, determined, scanning the golden rings on display beneath the glass of the counter. His eyes fell on the simple and clean golden band, glinting softly in the light, yet still subtle and not flashy in the least. He worried his bottom lip a bit before pointing at it. “Can I have a look at that one, please?”

Too busy to notice Yuuri’s stunned expression behind him, Viktor pulled out his credit card once he was certain he had found what he wanted to.

“Credit, please.” He told the cashier. “I’ll pay in installments.”

 

At the steps of the Barcelona Cathedral, Viktor stopped and turned to Yuuri, still holding his hand. If he wanted to do what he had planned to, it would have to be here. A choir was singing Christmas carols in Spanish, and the soft light from the cathedral cast Yuuri in an ethereal glow.

Had Viktor seen himself through Yuuri’s eyes, he would have known Yuuri thought Viktor looked like an angel.

Neither of them spoke when Viktor took Yuuri’s right hand in both of his own and gently pulled off his leather glove. He took the newly purchased golden engagement band from his pocket and slid it onto Yuuri’s ring finger with trembling hands.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” he managed to say, applauding himself for not stuttering, albeit his voice was a little unsteady, “For everything until now.” He took a deep breath. “Please, stay close to me.”

Yuuri regarded the ring on his finger for a moment and then looked at Viktor with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, a soft smile spread onto his lips, his eyes shining in the light of the cathedral. He reached for Viktor’s own right hand while his own slipped into the inner pocket of his jacket to reveal a next to identical golden ring.

Viktor’s eyes widened, and by the time Yuuri slipped the ring onto his finger, he had been rendered completely speechless. Yuuri’s smiled widened.

“You never fail to surprise me, Vitya.” He admitted, voice soft and fond. “I’ll never let go.”

 

**

 

“I did _what!?_ ”

Yuuri burst out laughing, and so did Phichit and Chris.

“You actually don’t remember!” Yuuri managed to breathe out, wiping tears of amusement from the corners of his eyes. “You never told him, Chris? Yurio?”

“No way I’d tell him.” Yurio muttered, looking everything _but_ amused in contrast to the older skaters. Otabek looked merely confused. As did Mari and Minako, who also had joined them for dinner that evening.

“I knew it would come up eventually.” Chris grinned, completely unapologetic.

“That can’t be!” Viktor insisted, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I was too nervous to even talk to Yuuri last year!”

“Not after 16 flutes of champagne.” Yuuri grinned, pulling out his phone. Viktor paled as Phichit and Chris pulled out their phones as well.

“Yeah, you pulled me into a dance off.” Yurio shot Viktor a death glare. “It was horrendously embarrassing!”

“And you asked Yuuri to dance with you.” Phichit told him with a wink.

“And you drooled all over him after he pole danced with me.” Chris grinned, looking like he was about to burst from laughter.

“Oh, god…!” Viktor let out a string of Russian curses in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t believe this!”

“We have proof, you know.” Chris said, waving his phone, showing an interested Mari and Minako a few pictures while Yuuri indulged Otabek in a few of the ones he had on his mobile.

Viktor was just about to accuse Chris of never saying a thing when Phichit broke the conversation with a question:

“What’s with the rings?”

The discussion ceased at once. Six pairs of eyes turned to look directly at Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor smiled, completely unapologetic, while a smirk formed on Yuuri’s face.

“Well, you see…” Viktor said, tilting his head.

“…they’re a pair.” Yuuri offered as a vague enough explanation.

Phichit’s eyes widened before his face broke into a smile so bright it could replace the sun twice over.

“Congratulations on your marriage!” He all but shouted, applauding enthusiastically. “Everyone…!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Phichit-kun.” Yuuri said calmly. “These are merely engagement rings. We’ll get married at an appropriate time when the season’s over.” He looked at Viktor, cocking an eyebrow. “Are we?”

All the embarrassment from earlier washed away and a new kind of blush tinted Viktor’s cheeks, softer, more humble. He nodded enthusiastically.

“We are.” He confirmed.

 

“You know…” Yuuri grinned at Viktor as he exited the shower later that evening, sitting down on the windowsill, “…you asked me to coach you back then, at the banquet last year.”

Viktor flushed red, burying his face into the pillow.

“No way!” He whined. Yuuri chuckled.

“Yes, you did.” He insisted. “You clung to me and blabbered in Russian, and then you asked me to become your coach when I retired.”

Russian curses were muffled against fabric. Yuuri regarded his fiancé for a moment, tilting his head in amusement and fondness.

“No wonder you were so reluctant to coach me.” Viktor muttered. Yuuri sighed, but he was still smiling.

“That had nothing to do with the banquet.” He assured him, sitting down on the bed instead to rub soothing circles onto Viktor’s back. “That had to do with my overall inexperience as a coach. I was merely afraid I wouldn’t be able to do you justice. In the end, I really did want to take you up on the proposition.”

That made Viktor turn around to gape at Yuuri.

“Why?”

“Because, Vitya,” Yuuri smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead, “You enchanted me that evening. The banquets have always been boring, and then you stepped in, dancing, having fun. I had the time of my life that night!”

Viktor looked like the lovechild of a goldfish and a tomato, cheeks flaring red and mouth opening and closing in disbelief and shock.

“You were adorable.” Yuuri insisted fondly. “You still are, in case you’re doubting it. Not only did you look like an angel on the dancefloor, but you danced like one, too, despite having had a lot of champagne. You had me on my knees and you don’t even remember it.” Yuuri sighed, somewhat wistfully, but his smile never faltered.

“…you’re actually telling me…” Viktor wasn’t sure how to express his newfound realization, “…you… before I even…”

“Yes.” Yuuri confirmed, understanding what Viktor was trying to say. “I was so happy when you showed up. I thought that maybe, you did remember after all. Turns out you didn’t.”

“Oh god.” Viktor groaned, burying his face back into the pillow. “This is so embarrassing…” Yuuri hummed.

“Well, I did pole dance on a formal banquet wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a tie.” He grinned.

Viktor couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, too.

Finally, he had done something he thought he would never manage to pull off in his entire life.

He had surprised himself.

 

**

 

Viktor did not win gold at the Grand Prix Final, but he felt oddly content with the silver medal around his neck. Yurio had beaten him by a mere 0.12 points, even after Viktor had skated a flawless free skate. Then again, Yurio had skated the perfect Agape-routine, complete with raised hands during jumps and oozing uncoditional love.

What was completely unfathomable was that they had both made history.

By breaking Yuuri’s records.

The world records.

Yurio had managed to snatch the world record with Agape, a mere 0.02 point margin to the old one. Viktor, somehow, broke the record with Stammi Vicino, scoring 0.09 points higher than Yuuri had done. Then again, he had flubbed the last combination jump completely during the short program, which put him to Yurio’s right-hand side on the podium.

He turned his head, catching Yuuri’s gaze, brown eyes smiling, twinkling, pride and joy reflecting in them and right back at Viktor.

When he finally stepped off the ice, Viktor handed Yuuri the flower bouquet with flourish.

“It’s not gold, but…” he shrugged, holding up the silver medallion, smiling a little sheepishly at his coach. Yuuri chuckled.

And then the smirk was back.

“Oh, Viktor,” he sighed, shaking his head and resting his chin on his knuckles, “How is it possible that even after all this time I’ve been coaching you, you still haven’t been able to win a gold medal?”

All color drained from Viktor’s face and was soon replaced with a shade as red as the roses in the flower bouquet in Yuuri’s hand.

“Uh…” Viktor gulped audibly.

What was he supposed to reply to _that?_

“Vitya, Vitya, Vitya,” Yuuri shook his head in disapproval as he walked forward, Viktor instinctively backing away until his back hit the barrier of the rink and he could only lead backwards over it as Yuuri bent over him, smirk still in place, “what do I do with you? How are you going to make this up to me?” His smirk was filled with sin and no promises. Or too many of them. “Any suggestions?”

Oh, Viktor had plenty of suggestions, and 99% of them were not considered appropriate to do in a public space. So instead of acting on any of them, he took a deep breath before promptly tackling his coach to the floor, catching him off guard.

“Please coach me until I retire!”

Yuuri blinked up at him, looking stunned for a moment. Then, he started laughing.

“Did you think I wasn’t going to?”

“And return to the ice.”

That made the retired figure skater pause. Viktor held his breath.

“Well, having Russia’s star skaters beat both my records was the best surprise and the greatest victory for me as a coach,” Yuuri said slowly, “But also the ultimate diss as a fellow competitor.”

Viktor felt like his chest was about to burst with emotion.

“Are you really…?”

Yuuri grinned.

“You’d better be prepared to train in Detroit for the next season.”

The following second, Yuuri found himself on the floor with a joyful fiancé on top of him, showering him in affection and peppering kisses onto every little inch of skin he could reach. Viktor only ended his onslaught of smooches as the janitor’s kindly asked them to leave.

Completely worth it.

 

**

 

Viktor ran towards the rink, his silver pony-tail whipping in the chilly spring breeze, Yurochka and Aki-chan closely beside him. He spotted the black track suit jacket and familiar jet-black hair from a good distance, smiling widely. Phichit, who was leaning against the wall, spotted him and said something to Yuuri, who looked over his shoulder and then turned around fully. He mirrored Viktor’s bright smile with one of his own. Viktor waved.

“Yuuri!”

His fiancé laughed, opening his arms to catch him as Viktor leapt into his embrace, grinning like mad into his shoulder before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Good morning, Vitya.” Yuuri smiled, supporting Viktor’s back as he continued to cling to him. “Shall we?”

Viktor grinned.

“I’m going to kick your ass, honey.” He announced. Yuuri’s illegal smirk never failed to take his breath away.

“Bring it on, darling.”

 

_There’s a place you just can’t reach, unless you have a dream too large to bear alone._

_We call everything on the ice love._

**Author's Note:**

> ...I didn't dare look at the word count until I finished it. Definitely the longest one-shot I've ever made.


End file.
